Between Shadows Episode VII: Unforgiven…
by Scb047
Summary: Summary: Xander's spin-off series, set a few years in the future in New York. Prompted by a photo, Dawn starts to reveal some of Xander's past to the group, while guilt over Gabe's injury leads Xander and Marcus into a deadly situation that might cost the
1. Past Tense

Between Shadows

Episode VII: Unforgiven…

Title: Between Shadows (Episode VII: Unforgiven…)

Author: Scb047 (scb047@hotmail.com)

Summary: Xander's spin-off series, set a few years in the future in New York. Prompted by a photo, Dawn starts to reveal some of Xander's past to the group, while guilt over Gabe's injury leads Xander and Marcus into a deadly situation that might cost them both their souls. 

Distribution: Distribute away, no permission required.

Feedback: Please do.

Disclaimer: If you want to sue me, first you gotta catch me. Long live the joys of copyright infringements!!! Avenge Napster!!! We remember… 

Special thanks to Calen Hawk for the Beta Reading.

Thu—thump. Thu-thump.

The darkness was shattered by the sound of his heartbeat. His breath was hollow and hoarse and muffled the sounds of battle all around him. The cloud of shadows ripped, streaking itself ruby red; the gleam of metal, the white of bones, thousands of shadows danced all around.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

His heart gave rhythm to the horse charging him, its rider twirling its sword theatrically. Xander was stuck in the moment, frozen in the forever. His death approached and he couldn't move no matter how hard he tried. One of the two ensnared armies chanted as his life shortened by the gallop.

"Ka-roosh! Ka-roosh!" They hung to that word like a prayer.

He watched in horror, breathless, as the sword came down to meet his neck.

Darkness.

With a bright flash of white light, Xander found himself standing in the same spot, the two armies now parted. The rider rode as he always did, déjà vu was getting déjà vu all over again. This dream had been plaguing Xander for months now, ever since the day he had slipped Skoll around his neck. Almost every night this scene unfolded with the unholy chorus chanting that now familiar name. Sulfur burned his nostrils while nausea chatted up his mind for a bit. The nightmare had become so eerie without ever changing; a feeling of belonging now clanged to Xander. He found himself reciting the words by heart along with the figure.

"I am the pale rider, and today, all hell rides behind me."

Xander found himself staring at the flame surging from the rider's left eye as if it called out the to him. It flickered ever so slightly in the wind, masking his owner's face, but Xander didn't need to see. He knew, he knew it in his bones. His hands trembled as he stared at the sword, a dark blade he had seen once before.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

Suddenly, the rider on his horse of bones wheeled around and for the first time ever, Xander saw his face. He didn't gasp or frown when he saw his features on him, when the face that gazed back at him turned out to be his own. Xander had known, he had just known.

"Boy toy."

He spun around to meet the voice and found Faith a few hundred meters away. She was dressed like she had been in Portmamock, her make-up gone and her attitude stoic. She stood staring at him, standing right by the Styx. Her bare feet were buried in its Brimstone shores, not far from where Buffy had died some years ago.

Buffy.

The word stung him more now then ever before.

"Ka-roosh! Ka-roosh!" continued the horde as the ground shook under their feet. The edges of Xander's vision were rapidly shrinking, disappearing back under the two armies rushing toward one another. He kept looking at Faith though, and he suddenly felt himself flying toward her at zooming speed. 

"Stare long enough into the abyss, Boy Toy…" she spoke her face flickering into a skull increasingly faster as he neared, as if someone was playing around with the switch button of an X-ray machine.

Suddenly, there was only darkness.

Xander bolted up from his bed, his breathing erratic and his sheets soaked with sweat yet again. After the disorientation passed, he shut his eyes tight as his breathing relaxed a bit. It was only a dream, just a stupid dream like a hundred ones before.

"…and I'll be staring right back at you," whispered Buffy into his ear. Her voice had been hoarse though, demonic even, and Xander caught only a glimpse of her withered, decomposed form as he launched himself out of the bed.

She was gone by the time he spun around, his back firmly pressed against the farthest wall of his room. The image of the decrepit monster still crept in his mind, still lingered to his dread on the edge of his vision. Her beautiful face dug in hollow, half a skull protruding through her bluish skin, and an eyeball hanging out of the socket by its festering optic nerve. It felt so real, so present even now that it was gone, like an aftertaste, like the shadow of some terrible violence.

His erratic breath slowly relaxed, his chest heaving less and less with every intake. Suddenly, Xander burst into a nervous, almost insane laughter, before breaking into tears. His hands quickly moved up to cover his eyes as he slowly started sobbing. The poster, against which he leaned, tore as he slumped down to the floor, leaving the Irish landscape on it in a broken puzzle. Years of repressed emotions were flooding Xander, and he laughed and cried insanely, having lost all the control he had over them.

There was terrible woe in the sudden realization that time heals only the wounds that it pleases it to.

"Me and Katrina happen to think you're doing just fine, New York," said Dawn as she pushed Gabe's wheelchair around the corner of their house. Gabe for himself, was smiling . "It's been only four months, New York, you can't expect to go all Miracle network on us so fast. "

"Well, I'm just anxious to have that dance you promised me."

"You know, I don't think you'd be such a flirt if you knew about my track record."

"What? You got a male version of Faith lurking around somewhere?" The question was answered by a gentle slap to the back of his head.

"Faith isn't that bad, once you get past the though girl act, which I admitted is a considerable gap. But no, I don't think the world could handle a male copy of Faith. I have my own demons, thank you."

"Such as?"

"Well the first boy to ever kiss me turned out to be a vampire, so needless to say it turned out to be a rather messy, not to mention dusty affair. But you got to do, what you got to do."

"So you killed your first boyfriend? Man, that must have been harsh on you."

 "Well," she said shrugging her shoulder dismissively, "he was hardly my boyfriend, I barely knew him. Anyways, I guess that those are the hearts filthy lessons."

"Big David Bowie fan, huh?"

"Hey, at least I listen to music with actual words in it. You know, the real kind."

"So I guess Chopin and Beethoven had the whole music concept all wrong, huh?"

Their voices dissipated slowly into murmurs as they came around to the backyard where they surprised Xander in the middle of an elaborate kata. He didn't seem to notice them, or at least refused to acknowledge their presence, instead continuing on with a breathtaking display of strikes. They quietly watch as Xander spun and launched himself at blinding speed, fighting off hordes of invisible adversaries. 

Shirtless, his tanned muscles glistened in the June sun, contracting and expanding as the sweat carved itself around Xander's scars. He seemed like a whirlwind, a sacred wind killing everything in his path. There was something unique about the dance, its tempo surprisingly fast even for Xander. The strikes were elaborate and complicated, the sheer volume unimaginable. The entire display was simply mesmerizing. 

Xander's wooden sword suddenly came down before moving up more slowly forming a few large circular motions as Xander spun himself into a slow stop. The sword pointed its wooden tip obliquely at the ground and Xander stared at that point with intensity. There was something of a confusion and a surprise in his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

"Bravo!" The call came with the applause of the two onlookers. Xander threw them a glance before his bewildered eyes returned to the tip of his sword. "What the hell was that, California? That was fucking amazing. How come you've never done that kata before?"

"What"s wrong Xander?" suddenly added Dawn when he failed to response. It took a moment for him to answer her as he continued to look dazed.

"I… I was never able to pull it off before. It's the last kata Hojiro ever taught me; I was never able to finish it. He always said I lacked the concentration—that and something about pain management, but he was always kind of obsessive about that."

"So good, you're getting better," replied Dawn, perking up as she picked up another wooden sword that laid about. She studied it playfully for an instant before turning it in Xander's direction. "So you think you can defeat my Shaolin sword?"

"Your kung fu is strong but it cannot hope to defeat my drunken baboon technique." Xander's face lit up with a smile for a moment as he played along with Dawn, faking bad kung fu movie dubbing. She playfully charged and they started exchanging attacks and parries, laughing as they went. 

Moments flew by, and as Xander gently slapped Dawn's bottom with his sword, he suddenly realized he felt truly happy for the first time in a long while. As he stared into her beautiful face, lit up by her smile and the afternoon sun, his many worries vanished and he pretended to be a kid again. He and Willow had often played that game growing up, and it all felt like family and home cooked meals. He listened carefully to Dawn's cute laughter before she bit her lower lip and tried a swipe at his head.

"Well, I guess I'll let you two have fun." Interrupted Gabe as he wheeled himself back into the house. There wasn't any maliciousness in his voice, but the sadness and the longing was apparent. "I'll be inside."

All the joy had been wiped from Xander's face, and he suddenly felt that terrible burden that had plagued Buffy all these years. Guilt, like extended family, always made sure to overstay its welcome.

"Now," spoke Buffy as she dusted a female vampire before her helpless companion. "Are you more of a striking or a grappling type?" 

The remaining vampire pulled himself to his feet, growling and looking seriously unhappy that his mate had met such an unfortunate ending. Buffy, for herself, watched him calmly with a smile, tipping her head from one side to the other as she waited for him to make his move. He finally did, charging her while screaming like a banshee. 

Buffy sighed, severely disappointed by her opponent's attitude. She made a quick calculation and her stake landed firmly into the ground a few feet from her the pointy end pointing straight up at the sky.  The vampire was but a feet away when she simply ducked down, letting the poor bastard trip right over her. He flew a few feet before landing, heart-first, onto the wooden death that waited him there.

"Oh well, I guess you were more of your garden variety charging-I'm-gonna die type."

Buffy sighed again as she looked around into the distance of Sunnydale's cemetery number 12. Somehow, she was failing to appreciate the beauty of the moon, shining down on the wet grass—the last telltale sign of a light afternoon drizzle. She was getting bored again, and if it continued, she would seriously start considering letting Dawn come on patrol.

"It's almost as if they come to me to die."

"Well you know B.," said Faith as she stepped around from one of the graves. "Some people never learn."

The shock of seeing Faith was incalculable. Patrol had truly become the lonely occupation Buffy had always claimed it should be. Save for Spike occasionally dropping in, she spent her evenings visiting old ghosts and thinking back on how things were in the good old days of the Scooby gang. Suddenly, it seemed an old ghost had decided to visit her for a change.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" Faith stood uncomfortably before Buffy's gaze, unable to meet it. She looked just like Buffy had remembered her, her clothes black and skin tight, leaving little to the imagination. Her demeanor though, smacked of growth; the Faith she knew would never had been quaking in her boots like that. 

"It's nice to see you again, Faith," finally managed Buffy, a quiet smile on her lips. This seemed to relax Faith, who instantly regained some of her renowned bravado.

"I'm nice to see period. You're not looking too bad yourself, B."

"Thanks, Faith. I try. So how long has it been?"

"I dunno, a year, a year and a half. Last I saw of you was from the wrong side of a plexiglass window."

"Yeah, that time I came to see you about Xander," Buffy paused, the name chocking up in her throat. It took a moment, and some serious feet staring before she could regain her composure. "You know, I wrote you after that, every week. You never wrote back. When I finally called up to see if something happened, they told me you'd been pardoned."

"Yeah, lucky me, huh? Sorry about the letters, I never got them."

"Why didn't you come and visit when you were released. Or you know, pick up a phone or something?"

"I'm sorry B., I just didn't know if I'd be welcome here. Anyways, I needed more time to myself." Faith shrugged her shoulders.

"I understand. It's not like all's forgiven, but I want you to know that you are welcome here. Listen, the slaying's been slow lately, and I was going to pack it in for the night. Maybe we can continue this at the Bronze or something? Give me a chance to guilt you up good, what do you say?"

"Sure thing B., but first, I have a little gift for you. I think, as far as squaring things for the non-communication, this little baby might do the trick." Faith sported a sly, but somewhat nervous grin as she took a step to the side. Her arm went up in a clumsy and ungraceful presenting fashion, and a dark haired man in a leather jacket appeared from behind the tombstone.

Suddenly, Buffy's mind screamed ambush. Her body tensed as she rapidly went on the defensive. She was getting ready to bolt when the man's voice sounded out her name.

"Hey Buffster." Buffy's heart skipped a beat, as she suddenly recognized the man before her. Xander had changed ever so slightly. Shorter hair. A little more muscle. Clean shaven. His wardrobe had definitively been influenced by Faith. And a scar now ran down from his mouth to his throat where she'd last seen a bloody gash.

"Xander," She could only speak his name, overwhelmed by a panoply of emotions. His expression left her unsure as to whether he was happy to see her or not, he seemed sad and uncomfortable. However, unable to resist the impulse, she ventured. "Can I run over there and hug you?"

"I was starting to think you'd never ask." 

Xander winced but said nothing as Buffy practically crushed his ribs. He caught a whiff of her perfume as she lifted him high in the air. It had been years, but the still familiar scent put a smile on his face. Buffy was tearing up ever so slightly, overwhelmed by joy and relief. They stay locked in the embrace for what seemed like forever, as Faith watched somewhat enviously. 

"I was afraid you were dead," said Buffy as she tried to discreetly wipe away her tears.

"Sorry, didn't mean to worry you… okay maybe I did, but I'm sorry, I really am."

"No, I… I deserved it, I shouldn't have…"

"Buffy," he interrupted, lifting her chin so she would look into his eyes, "as much as I hate having to stop you from apologizing—something I've fantasized about many times in the past—you don't owe me one on this. I was in the bad, in fact I was the bad. By the way, since when did you start apologizing to anyone? Where's my favorite little self-centered martyr went to?"

"I think she left with her best friend, you know the overbearing jerk with the ever constant, but secretly flattering, sexual innuendos. Maybe we shouldn't be talking about this anyways. It's all past tense, right? Here we are, all new and improved, and monochrome in your case, but maybe we can catch up over something alcoholy, overpriced, and preferably non-cavemen making?"

"Sounds like a plan," chimed in Faith, taking the opening to enter the conversation. She didn't like to be the third wheel, but she'd be damned if she was going to let herself be ignored. 

"Let's go then, and you can tell me all about how Dawn's doing in school, and if G-man's still on his wacky mid-life crisis, alright?"

"Alright," she answered with a smile.

Faith watched quietly as Xander smiled back, as that moment gave birth to something unexpected within her.

Faith twirled her hair, as she chewed the last life out of a piece of bubble gum. The flavor still fading in her mouth, she stared out at the orange sunset coming through the window of Mason's office. The beauty was lost on her as she readjusted herself constantly in her seat. Instead of awe, she thought of solitude and of the smell of gunpowder. She wondered why she had to fuck up everything in her life.

Mason stood a long time in the doorframe of his office, staring carefully at the pensive slayer. She hadn't noticed him, and the thought of that was strongly displeasing. Cool and collected Mason felt a surge of hatred rising through him. He took a long breath and reminded himself that it would soon all be over.

"Faith," said he, waking her from her reverie as he came around his desk He placed his baby soft leather briefcase on it, and pulled some documents out. "You weren't there when I woke up—again."

"Buy yourself a therapist, go see if she cares." Faith didn't seem to, still staring out the window and looking preoccupied.

"Why is it you feel such a need to be hostile all the time? Sometimes I really wish you would do without the attitude."

"Well it's a package deal, take it or leave it." Her tone was venomous. 

"Alright, I see we're not going to solve this any time soon, we're just going to have to put it off until after the meeting. Jeanine," spoke Mason into the intercom on his phone, "send them in."

The door opened on two young men in dark suits. It didn't take a second look on Faith's part to figure out they were lawyers, and she already knew who they worked for. The oldest one of the two, a clean shaven Asian, go getter type, extended his hand.

"Mr. Koenig, I'm Mr. Park, we've spoken on the phone. This is my associate Mr. Gibson. I've got all the paperwork ready, all we need is your signature, in blood, of course." He handed Mason some large yellow papers, and Faith caught a flash of the intricate calligraphy on it.

"You guys Wolfram and Heart?" she asked.

"Yes," answered Mr. Park, "You must be Faith. I understand you had some run-ins with our firm in the past."

"Yeah, can't say I've got too many fond memories of it."

"Well that was under previous management."

Mason handed back the signed documents, sucking hard on the finger he had slashed open with a knife. As he applied a bandage to the wound, Mr. Park shuffled through the papers until he encountered some brand new ones he hadn't expected.

"What's this?"

"It's a formal written request, we want to add someone onto the tribunal."

"This is news to me. Did you notify our office?"

"No, this is last minute."

"Mr. Koenig, with all due respect. Getting Mr. Harris on the tribunal was hard enough, I don't think we can accommodate another, especially this late."

"What the hell's going on?" asked Faith suddenly interested by the conversation, "What's that tribunal thingy?"

"I'll explain to you in a moment, Faith," answered Mason. "Now Mr. Park, I want you to know I fully appreciate the precarious nature of the time dilemma I'm putting you under. Unfortunately, there was no getting around the lateness factor; we had to see how successful the surgery would be. However, I do not think I need to remind you of which account I'm operating under."

"No, your employer has been one of our best and most appreciated clients for, well, what I understand is a very long time. It was also made very clear to me that he is considered to be a personal friend of the firm and the senior partners. That said, you should keep in mind that I was sent straight here from our main office in Los Angeles as a show of just how important this is to us. That said as well, I just simply think it can't be done."

"Trust me, this particular individual won't be any trouble to get in, in fact they should welcome her addition to the list. Of course, your firm will be more than compensated for the trouble. That said, this issue is not debatable."

"Who exactly are we talking about?"

"Melinda Posey."

"The serial killer?" asked Faith surprised.

"Actually," commented Mr. Park, "She's technically a mass murderer. Regardless, I don't think getting her on the tribunal, will be any trouble at all."

"Alright, that's it, somebody's gonna give me the lowdown on this tribunal you all keep yammering about, or I'm gonna start making some mass facial adjustments."

"As always Faith, you find new ways of impressing me with your patience," replied Mason, rubbing his eyes before giving in. "Very well. The tribunal is a contest that can be called upon to, well, force a number of contestants to be judged for their sins. All one needs to do to call one is submit a list of names, at least twelve, and offer the proper sacrifices and offerings and an amazingly long and painful amount of rituals and paperwork. Of course, only the most despicable individuals are accepted, and unfortunately, since Xander fell short—though not by much—of their requirements, I had to have the case argued before them."

"So what happens now, Xander gets a trial? His soul goes all purgatory?"

"No, you see. The ancient Sumerian gods that manages the tribunal believed in a more simple and effective method of redemption: trial by combat. Twelve walk in, one walks out. I would think the simplicity would appeal to you."

"Why wasn't I told of this? And what exactly do you think this is going to do, piss him off again. We've left him alone for months and now, out of the blue, you want to go spit in his face. He's just gonna come back madder."

"Darling," answered Mason, making sure to be as patronizing as possible, taking great delight in watching Faith's eyes narrow down into fine slits. "You weren't told because we feared you might try to warn Xander. Of course, now it's too late Mr. Park here made sure that some irresistible information made its way to Xander, in effect, luring him into our trap."

"It seems Mr. Harris has been searching for a way to help his friend Mr. Shiraz regain the use of his legs," added Mr. Park.

"He'll never fall for that, you're wasting your time. I hope you got an epitaph picked for your tombstone Mason."

"I wouldn't worry about that. I am afraid Xander will not be coming back from his little journey." Mason paused, as Faith's face seemed to drain. "Miss Posey will be there to make sure of that."

"You're tripping if you think this bitch's got anything on my Boy Toy, mass murderer or not?"

"That is a rather valid point," chimed in Mr. Park, "We have a file over at Wolfram and Heart on Mr. Harris. Suffice to say he's a surprisingly dangerous individual."

"Miss Posey will have a considerable advantage. You need not worry about that?"

"So, why exactly am I wasting my time up in here?"

"You're here to give us your expert opinion on something."

"What?"

 The answer was given with the push of a button. The side door to the office slid open and revealed a surprise that took Faith's breath away. She pounced to her feet, unable to reconcile what she knew to be truth with what stood before her eyes. She just couldn't believe the face staring back at her.

"Hey, you must be Faith," said the person before her. Even the voice was just right. "I'm a big fan of your work."

"Meet Miss. Posey, new and improved. You have the admit, the plastic surgeons did an amazing job, not to mention the vocal chords readjustment."

Faith was tongue-tied.

"Xander will never fall for that."

"Marcus, you're not going to believe what I just heard!" 

Xander barely closed the door behind him as he ran up to Marcus who sat on the couch watching the last minutes of ET. The look of pure joy on his face turned to slight confusion as he observed Marcus pounce to his feet, already sharing his excitation.

"Yo, I already heard, man!" Xander was positively bewildered by Marcus' reaction; there was no possible way for him to know. "They just said it on ET. Cordelia Chase just broke up with Carson Daly. Right on, brother!" Marcus' raised hand never received the high five it demanded; instead it was only met with the coldest of glares. "What? That ain't your good news?" 

"Marcus, shut up," answered Xander relatively calmly before moving to the TV to shut it off. When he turned around, the smile was back on his face. "There's this famous Shaman healer in town."

"Great. What's that got to do with Cordelia Chase breaking with Carson Daly?"

"C'mon Marcus, we can get him to cure Gabe."

"They can do that?"

"This one apparently can. He's not staying in town long, so we got to go right now. I got his address from this bartender at the Dying Light. So c'mon grab the keys you're driving."

"But wait, why do you want me to come?"

"Well I need a sacrifice," said Xander stone faced, delighting himself at Marcus sudden dread. "Relax, I'm kidding. What? You don't want to come?"

"Yeah, sure, but generally you're all like "I need to do this myself," and "you'll only slow me down," and all that crap that ain't true but you keep saying 'cause you don't want us around."

"Marcus, I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but I could use your help on this one. So what do you say we hurry so we can have the surprise of a lifetime for Gabe when he comes home?"

"I dunno. Aren't we moving a bit fast, I mean this could be an ambush for all we know."

"Don't worry so much, it's been four months since we've had anything more than a few vamps to worry about. Anyways, even if this is an ambush, we have to take this chance."

"That's what I don't like about it. Alright," said Marcus with a sigh, "I'm down."

As Marcus came back from getting the keys to Garrett's jeep, the telephone in the living room started ringing. Suddenly, Xander felt a chill as he gazed at it from the doorway. Something stirred in him like a bad omen; Skoll hot on his skin. He could glimpse at Buffy's reflection in the nearby windowpane, and his heart chanted an Irish lullaby, but he refused to listen or take heed. Desperation, the insatiable beast, had his scent.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"No time," he lied, stone faced,  "we'll let the voice mail pick it up."

The door closed on the empty house, the phone still crying its lonely plea.


	2. Fallen Angels

From the street, one could easily spot the torn police tape and the caved in roof. The two-story house had the aura of an evil mansion of horrors, as if someone had squeezed one down between two commercial buildings. Surely it must have once been the local legend house, of which kids had spoke long tales in hush tones. The most adventurous and foolhardy of them might even have risked running to the door, touching it and then running back immediately before the approving laughter of their friends; but even those days were far behind it now. The only thing keeping it from being a pile of rumble was semantic. A foul wind seeped through the cracks of the boarded up windows, spreading a remarkable stench of rot.  It looked like the kind of place junkies and vampires avoided. To Xander it looked like the Holy Grail.

"I'm not going in there," said Marcus, unconvinced that the entire structure could support the weight of even a single individual. "Uh-uh, I think I spotted a family of rat evacuating as we pulled in." 

"C'mon, I bet it's a warding spell of some kind. Shamans are not fond of visitors."

"Yeah, well maybe we should just ward off and be on our way."

"Marcus, what story do you want us to tell the gang when we get home? You want to tell Sanaz we passed up a chance to heal up her brother cuz you were too scared? You want to tell that to Katrina?" 

"What you mean by that?" 

"By what?" answered Xander innocently; fully aware of the button he was pushing.

"By—you know what? Never mind, let's just get the motherfucker."

The door slowly panned open with a creek, revealing a luxurious, spacious interior having absolutely nothing in common with its facade. Burgundy carpets, framed by golden marble tiles, lined the lobby, running through a crossroad and up a magnificent staircase that wheeled up out of sight. A bright crystal chandelier hung high above, reflecting the lights of the thousands of candles attached along the walls. 

"Whoa, you were right. This place is definitively jamming," remarked Marcus as he strayed quickly from the door and toward the closest wall. In between stone columns were bronze panels with embossed image, vastly detailed depictions of glorious battle scenes between men and demons. Marcus was engrossed into one when the door violently shut on its own, the sound of it locking sent him scrambling.

"Dog, help me out the door's locked." Xander didn't respond calmly looking down both corridors that ran through the lobby, they seemed endless rows of oak doors; way longer than the outside structure should have ever permitted. The entire place had a very Romanesque feel to it for some reason, with tiny slit as excuses for windows appearing only scarcely through the corridors. Beige light seemed to radiate from them, or at least it appeared to from where Xander was standing. 

"Forget the door Marcus, we haven't found what we're looking for yet. We'll worry about getting out once we do."

"You the boss," replied the younger man reluctantly. He joined up with Xander in front of the closest window and gasped at what he saw outside. Beige. There was nothing but this beige glow, as if a veil surrounded the house a mere twenty meters away, as if the house floated into nothingness. "What the--?"

"Relax," offered a very calm Xander, "we apparently just stepped into a dimension portal. This place apparently exists in a very, very, very small dimension. There's nothing to worry about else that there might be a tiny little increase in the likeliness of this being a trap now. But we're talking Tiny Tim, here."

"Isn't that a nickname you give a big fat guy usually?" asked Marcus panicked. Xander bit his lip, looking uncomfortable. He shook his head a few times before replying.

"I was hoping you wouldn't catch that."

"Oh that's it, I'm so out of here." 

"Wait, Marcus," lamented Xander as he watched his friend starting down one of the corridor. The latter however, didn't make three steps before another voice called out to him. 

"STOP! You, over there, don't make another move." In the middle of the lobby, having seemingly just appeared out of thin air, now stood an attractive man in his early thirties, with long brown locks, and green eyes. He wore black dress pants and a gray shirt, which he wore, unbuttoned at the throat. One of his hands seemed to dance to its own tune. 

"Listen man, we're not looking for any trouble—" tried Marcus before being interrupted.

"I know; that's not it. There's a very deadly pitfall about three inches from your foot. If you take one more step, maybe even half a step, you'll have a few seconds of freefall to kiss your ass goodbye with before you hit a series of what I've been assured are very sharp spikes."

"Oh," said Marcus, slowly backing away from the trap. "Thanks for the save, I guess."

"We're looking for a shaman. We we're—" started Xander before finding himself interrupted as well by the stranger.

"—told you might find him here and he could probably help your friend with his little medical problem. That was a lie, sorry to have to break it to you. Just between you and me though, mixing medicine and magic," the stranger raised his twitchy hand and stared at it for a second, "not all what it's cracked up to be."

"Okay, so who are you? Because I'm hesitating between nice friendly guy with nervous tick, and evil super villain with some strange kind of so far unimpressive hand power."

"What? This? I have evil hand issues but else than that—actually I used to be a lawyer so I guess it's more or less all evil five days out of the week, but on week-ends I'm quite amicable. In this case, I've been hired to act as your attorney, so I'm on your side. The name's Lindsey McDonald, I'd shake your hand but I'm slightly unsubstantial. I'm not really here, this is an astral projection."  

"Attorney? What the hell do I need attorney for? Don't tell me. Trans-dimensional kidnapping. This is how they actually get people to go on Judge Judy isn't it?"

"No I'm afraid it's a little more serious than that."

"Talk for yourself, Judge Judy haunts my every nightmares."

"You, Mr. Alexander Lavelle Harris, have been petitioned to join the tribunal. A petition, I'm afraid I was unable to have thrown out; and so here you are."

"Tribunal?" interrupted Marcus, "What the hell's is that tribunal thingy?"

"He's about to tell us that Marcus, but I'm guessing this is some kind of maze, test the righteous, fail we die type deal, right?"

"Actually, fail your soul will be damn to an eternity of torment, but you got the idea."

"Damn. Eternity of torment," quipped Xander seemingly unimpressed, "I knew Judge Judy was going to be in there somewhere."

"As your attorney I'm here to tell you the rules of the game, of course there are none. The house is booby trap like crazy, and you need to make your way to the top floor where you'll find the exit. Along the way, you'll be challenged mentally, as well as physically. You should also find yourself facing the other contestants; all crazy, maddeningly evil types which we'll no doubt try to kill you. I suggest you beat them to it, only one of you is allowed to walk out."

There was a beat. Suddenly, everything wasn't funny to Xander anymore. Guilt was eating his way through him like a cancer on speed. Marcus. Why did he have to pick today to bring him for a tagalong? But then again, wasn't that just what he always did, put his friends in danger? Buffy's curse had been passed on to him. He could lie to himself, play around with Dawn all afternoon and pretend to be normal, but he wasn't. He was a plague, the eye of a murderous storm. All the faces he had watched die were coming up to him again, angry that he had let himself forget for a second. "You belong here," they said to him,  "you deserve to be judged and sentenced". How did he dare to try to have a normal life? Xander's stared at the floor as he thought these things, feeling nauseous, looking as sick as a dead horse. He and misery had always had this sick relationship; she only left him alone when he brought it to others. 

"Wait, what about me," interjected a paling Marcus, "I ain't no mad killer, and I'm only here because he brought me."

"Yes, that's very unfair but anyone who enters the arena is subject to its rules."

"Listen, let him go and I won't fight this okay?" said Xander with defeat in his voice.  "He doesn't belong here."

"That's out of my hands. Althought, I did take the liberty, even though I wasn't hired to represent him, to argue this point in both your favors, and due to a technicality, we came up to a compromise. You two won't have to kill each other off. Unfortunately, since you did enter together your soul is attached to Mr. Harris'. If he dies you go along with him into eternal damnation. If he wins and you get killed along the way, your soul will be allowed to move on as it normally would."

"Jeez, that's so comforting," said Marcus looking like he was flying through the five stages of denial. "But I don't get it. Sure Xander is no angel, but he's not some silence of the lamb's freak. He's a good guy, he does the good, save people, kill vampires. Don't you got any worst people to try to damn?"

"I know. Mr. Harris shouldn't have been on that list. I tried to argue that, unfortunately a few less than completely evil individual have been known to be added on the list from time to time. Didn't help either that the prosecuting team was… formidable. Doesn't excuse it though, I must be getting rusty. I would have eaten those bastards alive six years ago." 

"You used to be Wolfram and Heart, right? Lindsey, I think Cor... I mean I think a friend of mine told me about you."

"I'm freelance now, more of a cosmic public defender of sort. I also sometimes take big clients when the money's right, like in this case. A man has to earn a living after all, or a Ferrari for that matter." Suddenly, Lindsay seemed absorbed with a long distant sound that only he could hear; he turned a quarter of the way around to face the stairway. "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this short; competition's coming. Good luck and remember your souls along with my paycheck, is riding on this. I'm rooting for you."

Lindsey faded away as the sounds of two gruesome yells came flying down the stairs. Marcus, panicking from the much too rapid pace of the situation, turned toward Xander, hoping for some hint as to what to do. He felt a little better when he realized that gone were the sorrow and defeat from his friend's face. Instead there now was a solid and cold determination. 

Footsteps could be heard. 

Xander was starting to crack his neck from side to side.

Dawn held up the door as Katrina rolled in Gabe, the bright sunlight following the trio inside. Gabe's smile was all about obliviousness. Surrounded by two of his favorite girls in the whole wide world, he didn't care one bit he was confined to the wheelchair he hated so much. For a moment, it was the farthest thing from his mind. 

"I'm not saying you're insane, I'm saying your idea is insane," exclaimed Gabe. "Why would Liam go evil if he and Destiny had sex?"

"He's got a point Dawn."

"Listen, he's cursed by gypsies, right? I'll bet you you're sweet stereo system any day that they slipped a "No happiness" clause and the second they do the big tango, it's all bad ass Liam from then on. C'mon think about it, they're star crossed lovers, it's so perfect. Think of all the great story lines that would come out of that."

"I still think you've got way too much imagination, Cordelia Chase would never write this stuff, her character and Liam are soul mate, that triumphs over all, you know? And where are you getting all this no happiness clause from anyways?" asked Katrina too busy watching the mischievous smile form on Dawn's face to notice the one washing itself away from Gabe at the mention of soul mates.

"Let's just say I know my gypsies." The phone suddenly rang out through the room, interrupting the conversation. Dawn slowly made her way toward it. "I'll get it."

"I'll be in my room," said Gabe in a depressed tone, heading off in the distance without Dawn noticing. Katrina, however, fully caught on to his sudden sulky mood swing, and immediately set on to retrace her step through the conversation, hoping to catch what might have set off Gabe.

"Hello?" spoke Dawn perkily into the phone.

"Huh—oh hello. May I speak to Mr. Xander Harris please?"

"Huh," replied Dawn, not sure if she recognized the voice on the other end, "Xander's not home right now, may I take a message?"

"No—I mean, I've already left messages on his infernal voice mail. I've been trying to call all bloody afternoon. I'm sorry but this is utterly urgent; you wouldn't perhaps know where I might contact him? It's of the outmost importance that I speak to him immediately. I'm an old friend of his, I assure you he won't mind a bit."

"Giles is that you?"

"Yes… who am I speaking to?"

"Dawn, this is Dawn, Giles. I'm hoping you're planning on major giftage to make up for not recognizing me."

"Dawn? Dawn Summers? How—what are you doing there?"

"Xander didn't tell you, I'm living with him now. I mean, him and the rest of the gang. And you can start cleaning your sunglasses, by the way."

"I haven't spoken with Xander in months, I had supposed he was too busy with the Faith issue. You are aware of that whole affair, correct?"

"Yeah, Faith evil again. Got it. Don't worry you're British butt over that, he's got it all covered. She hasn't shown her face in months either. What's this about anyways?"

"That's something I unfortunately would prefer to talk of with Xander directly."

"Big bad brewing huh? That's alright you can tell me, I'm not a little kid anymore, and it's not like we didn't have those when I was growing up anyways."

"No, Dawn, I would definitively trust you with something like that. It's something of quite a different nature. Xander asked me several months ago to find something out for him, unfortunately we've been immensely busy with several other problems."

"Problems?"

"Yes, I'm afraid one of the Watcher's council vault was robbed, several people were killed, and that is just the latest incident among many. Sunnydale was never the only place on earth with potential apocalypses. Even slayerless, the council is still immensely busy."

"Well I don't know where's Xander's at, but I'll tell him to call you as soon as I can get in touch with him. Giles? One thing though: is there anything you can tell me about this? You sort of got me worried here."

"Just that it's personal and concerns Xander. I'll try calling later in the evening. Cheers."

"Bye."

"What was that about?" asked Katrina. Dawn turned around and was almost startled by how close Katrina had managed to sneak up on her. She looked like she had been listening to the entire conversation with a concerned look on her face.

"Oh, that was Giles, an old family friend that lives in England. I think there's some big apocalypse brewing and he doesn't want me to know about it. But that's the story of my life."

"Apocalypse?" Katrina recoiled back with shock as she spoke the word, but Dawn instantly and genuinely seemed to get excited.

"Oh! You never had one? You're going to love it, they're so much fun!" 

"You and Xander are so seriously messed up." It took her a second to wrap her mind around that concept that the world might be ending and that for some screwed up reason it was the equivalent of a fun filled mid-term in for the girl in front of her. Granted she didn't know enough about her somewhat secretive friend's past to be surprised, but raised by Xander or not, the girl had issues. Abruptly, she remembered the reason she'd stayed behind to talk to Dawn. "Talking about messed up, I think some damage control is needed over at sensitivity central. I think I inadvertently hit a nerve."

The battle-scream like shrieks descended the stairs again moments before the two maniacs producing them followed. The younger one, an enormous butch outdoorsy type came running straight at an unimpressed Xander, his knife itching for a stab. The seemingly least lucid of the two, all dressed up in his favorite bloody nightgown, was making a beeline for Marcus, slashing the empty air with his axe as he went. His long disheveled gray hair seemed to be severely affecting the accuracy of his attacks, or maybe he was just striking out at all the imaginary enemies he was ranting about. 

"Hey," said Xander with utter fake friendliness, as his maniac got into range, "Sorry, we have to make this quick, my friend's kind of in a jam."

The maniac's weapon went high up in the inexperience fashion of a Friday the thirteen fan, and Xander, still smiling, simply closed up the range between them. Pivoting as the maniac still attempted to bring his arm down, Xander slipped his own around the man's shoulder and violently threw him on his head. The sound of his neck breaking was only overshadowed by the one his skull made as it cave in with a splatter of blood. 

In one swift move, Xander was standing up again, the knife now in his hand. He instantly spun toward Marcus, who barely managed to stay out of the axe's wide arcs. A quick snap of the wrist later, and the knife embedded in the maniac's leg got his attention away from Xander's terrified friend. Not a moment later and with a grunt, he was pulling the blade from his leg, and to Xander's surprise, actually rushing toward him like nothing had happened.

"I'm the angel of fate, the time of cleansing is at hand. The skin is bright in the mildew. My broad wings like demons sweep over the battlefield, cutting down souls by the magnificent thousands. I will writher my hands through your brain. My shoes are too short----"

"What?" asked Xander as he dodged the axe swings of the madman. "What are you talking about? You want some new shoes?"

"Beelzebub. Anthony Hopkins. Martha Stuart!!!!"

Xander, who looked like he'd been playing around with a kid, finally seemed to decide he had had enough and simply grabbed the axe with one hand, stopping it an inch from his face. The other hand snapped up and broke the madman's nose with a simple backhand. As his head went up with the backlash, so did Xander's foot meeting him sideway at the throat. The madman went down, leaving his axe in Xander's deadly hands as the former concentrated on breathing with a crushed windpipe.

"Nice axe!" Xander remarked cheerily after observing it for a second, just before coldly bringing it down to split his opponent head like a log. Marcus looked shocked, blood splattering on his disgusted face.

Her face brought back all the memories he had been told would fade. It was then he realized the photo album is by far the greatest tool of self-torture ever invented by men. Burning the leather bound book resting on his lap, though momentarily appealing, was unfortunately out of the question. Instead he stared at her picture, thinking back at how sweet she tasted. Dutifully, he retraced over the blurry lines of his memory, carving every nick and contour of her face into his mind all over again.

"Hey," said Katrina timidly as both her and Dawn joined Gabe in his room. "Whatcha doing big guy?"

"You know what I'm doing Katrina, otherwise you wouldn't be here," replied Gabe without taking his eyes off the picture. His voice was sad but showed no bitterness; in truth in appreciated what she was trying to do. "Don't say your sorry either, I know you are but I think this might be one of those times where I'm a little bit more interested on concentrating on me."

"Maybe you'd like to tell me what's going on?" asked Dawn, thinking it might be a good way to get him started on the sharing.

"I was just thinking about Annie. My last girlfriend."

"Was that the one that—oh, Xander told me about that. I guess the soul mate thing—"

"—wasn't the smartest thing to bring up. I know, my bad," finished Katrina. 

"Maybe you want to tell me about her, I know when I lost people in the past, that's what I l liked to do. It helped a lot, I mean, unless you want to become a depressive wreck like Xander."

"Would kind of want to avoid that, if possible. Pull up a seat."

"So what was she like?"

"She was—she was just one of those persons that you meet once in a life time. You know, they've got it all, beauty, personality, not that you two ladies don't have your share of those, but she, she really did it for me. She had this wild seized the day type of attitude."

"And she was really sweet," added Katrina, taking the chance to unload some of her own pain. "She didn't like to bullshit, or dance around an issue. She was really upfront, but in a nice and polite way, you know?"

"She just had the best smile—" Gabe paused trying to swallow up his tears along with the lump forming in his throat. "When she died, I almost went insane. I just didn't want to accept it. She was the best thing that ever happened to me, I just wanted her back. I would have done anything."

"That's something I understand," chimed in Dawn, "When my mother died, I even went so far as to do a spell to resurrect her. I wanted her back so bad, I didn't care about the consequences."

"A resurrection spell?"

"Yeah, one of many byproducts of growing up exposed to the world of the paranormal. I mean, having that as a temptation was just evil, no one, especially not a fourteen year old girl should have to make that choice. Might have been the worst mistake I had ever made if my sister hadn't stopped me."

"I can't say I wouldn't have gone for it, even after seeing that Zombie chick Xander had to put down," Gabe sniffled, looking off in the distance for a moment. "She died in my arms, Dawn. Right there, in my arms. How exactly is anybody supposed to live with that?"

"Maybe you'd want to talk to Xander about it. Granted, he's really pessimistic, and hard to get in a shary shary mood, but—he's got more experience with that then anyone I know. I lost count of how many of our friends he actually watched die."

"Yeah well," replied Gabe, a bit irritated, "we're not all made of ice like your precious Xander. Shit, I mean, I love California, don't get me wrong, but he never shed a tear Dawn. Not a single one."

"Xander's got feelings too—he's just lost track of how to express them along the way. I remember when my mom died; he was a mess, caught his fist into a wall because he punched it too hard. He still wouldn't let us see him cry though, Anya—his girlfriend at the time—she's the only one that saw him. The only time I ever seen him cry was the day he… the day Willow died."

"Willow," asked Katrina, "Xander said that name before."

"She was Xander's best friend since he was like five." Suddenly, Dawn was the one fighting off tears as she spoke. Her hand discreetly wiped her eyes as she was loosing poorly, laughing sadly as she remembered a funny thought. "She had the biggest crush on him and I grew up thinking I'd have to fight her off to marry Xander, but then she turned out to be gay and everything was fine."

"What happened to her? Demons got her?" asked Gabe.

"No—I mean technically I don't know…" Dawn paused a long time, finding herself trapped by her good intentions. She had come into the conversation trying to help Gabe sort out his feelings, and now it was starting to feel like the tables were turning on her. Perhaps in the end it was for the best, sharing your pain with someone gave them the illusion of not being alone in their suffering. "I shouldn't tell you this, but Willow… she turned evil, she got all possessed by this demon and… she was killing people, I mean slaughtering them… we couldn't find a cure, if anything we were sure there wasn't one and…"

"And what?" asked Gabe. Meanwhile, Katrina's mind was working a mile a minute, already peeking at the terrible revelation ahead. Her heartbeat was rising as her breathing became audible.

"…we couldn't find a cure and… there were just so many people, she was just so…"

Dawn didn't speak after that. After a long time of silence, Katrina finally said it.

"Xander killed her didn't he?" Dawn never answered, only giving Katrina a sad look, her eyes full of tears. Gabe pulled himself back in his chair, feeling guilty for probing into the matter.

"Oh my god."

"You know, whatever you say about Xander, he knows pain," finally continued Dawn, wiping away the last of her tears as she spoke.  "I never met someone who carried so much of it. I don't know how he does it; to be honest I'm really afraid one day he's just going to—anyway, enough about me. I showed you mine, you show me yours."

 "Here," said Gabe as he handed Dawn a picture, "meet Annie."

It took a second but then her heart sunk. She caught it. She caught it faster than Xander had at the time. It wasn't a twin kind of resemblance, but it was close enough. The way Annie smiled in the picture, it was so familiar and painful. It was eerie, and she instantly knew a part of the story that those that had lived it were still ignorant off.

"What's wrong Dawn?" asked Katrina, concerned by the look of shock on her friend's face." 

"What? So I'm just supposed to run over there and hug you, make it all forgivy and dramatic?" spat Dawn as she stood across the living room from Xander. Buffy and Faith waited back, steering clear of the bloodshed. "Maybe we can all hold hands and pretend you didn't walk out on us."

"Would that really be so much to ask?" tried Xander with his pathetic and goofy trademark smile. If it was working, she was certainly not letting on. He tried again more seriously, "listen Dawn, me leaving had nothing to do with you."

"I know, I mean, exactly. It never has anything to do with me. Who cares about Dawn? Nobody! I thought I could depend on you Xander, but you turned out to be just like everyone else. I needed you. You just left, you didn't even care enough about me to say goodbye."

"Dawn."

"Why did you have to comeback? Why couldn't you just have crawled up into some hole and died?" Dawn yelled out the last part as she bolted up the stairs, leaving Xander sighing deeply, his shoulder dropping as he seized the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Suddenly, he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, attached to it was Buffy, wearing her most sympathetic smile.

"She doesn't really mean it, she's just majorly venting. You know how us Summers women can be—and feel free to fight me on this one."

"Oh no," replied Xander as unconvincingly as possible, "you difficult? Why never! That's crazy talk! Is that infomercial sincerity or what?"

They both laughed gently as she punched him hard on the arm. Faith, forcing herself to smile brightly, trying hard to imitate Buffy, stepped forward to participate or rather interrupt their exchange.

"Yeah, Dawn's still just a teen, Xand. You know how they get, all angsty, and self-absorbed. She'll be motoring in no time, and it'll all be five by five. You'll see."

"Yeah I know," answered Xander absently, without taking his eyes off Buffy. The smile disappeared off Faith's face. She felt like starting a fight just to be noticed, maybe mention Angel name and delight herself at the drama that would unfold. That's what the old Faith would have done. New Faith wanted very much to break the friendly, comfortable moment between the two old buddies; she wanted to shatter it like a mirror. The growing rage was hard to contain, but somehow Faith managed to maintain a cool demeanor, partly due to the fact that no one was paying attention to her anyways.

"So," continued Buffy as she motioned both her guest to sit down around the coffee table. "You were telling me you'd been working with my ex for the past year—who by some mystical coincidence also felt he needed to drop off the earth completely, no goodbyes, no phone call or letters—do I really have this effect on men? Oh, you sure I can't get you anything to drink?"

"Beer," answered Faith flatly as she flipped through a nearby magazine. 

"Juice, or water," answered Xander before sighing, "maybe this would be a good time to mention I'm an alcoholic, well, recovering."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No don't worry about it. I'm down with my heritage."

"So, then," yelled Buffy from the kitchen as she rummaged around for their respective orders, "How was the wonderful world of the military?"

"Surprisingly not at all like McHale's Navy."

"I had to call him 'Sir'," threw in Faith, looking increasingly bored as she chewed a piece of gum. Buffy shuddered as she came back carrying the refreshment. 

"In the immortal words of Bill Clinton, 'I feel your pain'," she tapped Faith gently on the shoulder, but the latter seemed engrossed by her magazine. "I guess you finally got to put that Halloween sergeant thing to good use."

"I guess." 

"Was it fun?"

"Ups and downs."

"How's Riley."

"Good. Married though—sorry."

"Oh, how is she? Please tell me she's fat and horribly controlling."

"Sam? Sorry, she's—well, really cool." 

"Are you guys staying in town long?"

"I was thinking permanently." Faith shot a glare at Xander from above the page of her magazine. They hadn't discussed that idea, and she didn't appreciate Xander making that decision without consulting her. He wasn't wearing stripes on his shoulder anymore; who the hell did he think he was?  Or maybe he just didn't care where she went from then on

"Oh, yet another four words or less sentence. Oz much? Where have all the wisecracks gone?"

"Things change. Can I smoke in here?"

"Outside, thank you—and since when do you smoke?"

"Well, I had to pick a bad habit to replace you with; it also, seems to give me illusions of being way more suave than I really am. Which brings me to my secondary mission objective tonight as Riley would say?"

"I'm hoping it doesn't involve civilian loses. So what is it? Don't keep me on edge all night, _sir_."

"Well, the secondary mission objective was to weasel some room and boarding out of you, just for a couple of days. Until we figure out something."

"No need, you guys are welcome to stay here for as long as you like. I just have the one room though…" The last statement was much more of a question. Were they a couple? They had hinted around all evening, but she had never seen any definite evidence that would characterize their relationship. Buffy had no idea, why exactly she cared. Sure, her and Xander had flirted mildly all evening, but that was nothing new. Maybe it was seeing him after so long, after so many months of not knowing if her only remaining friend was still alive, and suddenly to have him show up out of the blue. Maybe it was just the fact that she would have lost him to Faith of all people. There would always be a rivalry between them, both slayers knew it, and it made the slightest jealousy all the more potent. Maybe it was just that he seemed so much more confident, much more dark and exciting than she remembered so much more of a man.

"Fab, I'll grab it. Looks like it's couch time for you Boytoy," exclaimed Faith, still not being much for sharing a bed after the party's over. The rate it was going though, she had no doubt Xander would find himself another bed to shove his boots under. She suddenly somewhat regretted teaching Xander the art of seduction.

"Why do you get the bed?"

"Cuz I'm stronger than you and, last I checked, the elephant still sits wherever it damn feels like, or so the joke goes anyways."

"Alright, I don't think it would have been such a hot idea anyways, given your usual sleeping habits--your usual naked sleeping habits. Wouldn't want to scar Dawn for life, right?"

"Like someone else we know," spat Faith somehow much more ticked off by what would have been friendly banter on any other day. She scratched her face, tracing an imaginary line with her middle finger where Xander's scar would be. Buffy, suddenly felt an overwhelming awkwardness fall upon the room. It took a while for her to lift her head back up, witnessing Xander's intense glare toward Faith who for herself, seemed oblivious. 

"So… Xander," said Buffy, finally breaking the silence. "It's good to have you back…really—both of you actually." It took a beat or two before Xander responded, finally relaxing away from his and Faith's silent staring contest.

"Thanks, it's good to know that you can actually go home again. In your face English language, you and your stupid proverbs."

"I'm glad you still have the unique ability to direct your anger toward inanimate things—that you can't actually touch—or see for that matter."

"Well it's better that way, they don't usually fight back. There's one thing I absolutely need to know though." He looked dead serious, and something worried Buffy this wasn't a have your bra size increased question. For a moment, she was afraid he was going to bring up Angel, another subject they had danced around all night.

"Sure, fire away," she replied bravely.

"What exactly is in a Doublemeat burger?" he asked with a sly, almost evil grin.

"I am so going to kick your ass."


	3. Never Free...

Title: Between Shadows (Episode VII: Unforgiven…) part 3/4

Author: Scb047 (scb047@hotmail.com)

Summary: Xander's spin-off series, set a few years in the future in New York. Prompted by a photo, Dawn starts to reveal some of Xander's past to the group, while guilt over Gabe's injury leads Xander and Marcus into a deadly situation that might cost them both their souls. 

Distribution: Distribute away, no permission required.

Feedback: Please do.

Disclaimer: If you want to sue me, first you gotta catch me. Long live the joys of copyright infringements!!! Avenge Napster!!! We remember… 

Special thanks to Calen Hawk for the Beta Reading.

Never Free… 

"Yeah! And if you want some more of this, you can always try again in your next life! Loosers!" yelled back Marcus into the blood-splattered room. A half-dozen or so bodies lined it, lifeless and dismembered, he and Xander triumphant of yet another terrifying attack. Marcus was still pumped full of adrenaline, proud that he'd actually managed to take one down, while his friend had taken care of the five others. He turned around toward him with a big proud grin on his face, but lost it when he took a look at his ruined clothes.  "Seriously though dude, can you try to have less blood flying around. These duds don't come cheap."

"Right now, I'm more worried about keeping you alive," answered Xander, discarding away the broken handle of his axe. "Beside you might be starting a new trend there. Blood summer wares. Very chic."

He immediately started off into a brand new hallway, peeking quickly down both sides. One seemed somehow shorter, while the other echoed a certain dreadful endlessness. Xander sighed, evaluating it was devoid of danger for now, and motioned for his friend to follow. 

"Yo dude, can I ask you something?"

"What Marcus?" replied Xander in an annoyed tone.

"I'm shitting in my pants here. The thought of dying's bad enough, but I really don't want to spend eternity being tortured, man. Any chances I'm not alone in this?" Xander grew sad had the comment, swallowing hard as he thought an eternity of torment might just be what he deserved.

"No, Marcus," he answered looking at the ground, before lifting his chin up with a regained vigor. "No, you shouldn't worry about it. I'm going to get you out of here safe and sound. I mean all we got to worry about is a couple of psychos. We deal with major baddies almost every week and we're alive, this is nothing, this is like the minors. These guys got nothing on us."

"Does anything scare you?" asked Marcus as if making a joke. "Like I don't know spiders or some shit like that. I mean, make a regular dude feel better here."

Xander laughed a little, trying to think back to the last time he had actually experienced terror. Buffy's face as Asmodeus' sword pierced through her belly. 

"No, man. I'm bad to the bone. But I'd watch it if I was you, back in Sunnydale that would have sounded like a jinx…." Xander's voice trailed off as a door opened up ahead of them. The door swung outwards from the right, and a chainsaw popped out through the opening, the sound of its motor roaring over a maniacal laugh. 

"You want to take that one?" asked Marcus, sounding though and unimpressed. "Or you want me to handle it?"

Xander was about to answer when the chain-wielding madman came into view, all decked out like a clown at a children's party. It's red nose dripped with blood as Xander turned a strange color of white. 

"… and the jinxing begins."

"What?"

"You better take that one, Marcus," said Xander slowing backing up as the mad clown swung his weapon menacingly in the distance. Marcus looked abruptly panicked.

"What do you mean you better take that one? What's wrong with you? I can't fight someone like that by myself!" 

"I'm scared of clowns."

"You're fucking kidding me! Go out and kill that thing, now!"

"Marcus," interrupted Xander as he watched the clown start to bolt towards them. "Run!"

"What is it Dawn?" asked Katrina as she caught up with her by the living room window.  Dawn stood there, staring out at some kids playing around by the curb. She wondered why, if she never in fact had a childhood, she missed it so much. Why the thought of those false memories hurt her so much. It was almost funny to her, the fact that she didn't even know where she began.

"What's going on?" asked Sanaz as she stepped in through the front door, Garrett in tow. She glanced back and forth between a teary eyed Dawn, and a sympathetic, if a little confused, Katrina. Suddenly Sanaz was struck with fear. "Kat, what's going on? Is everybody alright? Xander? Gabe?"

"No, everyone's fine. I'm not… I'm not sure what's going on. We just showed her a picture of Annie and she freaked."

"You know what?" said Garret carefully, knowing he was treading on careful waters. "I'm gonna go check on Gabe."

Sanaz dropped her purse on the couch before pulling Dawn into a hug. "What's wrong sweetie?"

"Nothing… it's just bad memories, that's all."

"No, no you don't honey," Sanaz waved a finger gently in her face. "We got enough of one emotional wreck under this roof, you're gonna tell us what's up, and we're going to find a way to make it all better. Even if I have to run down to the store and buy industrial quantities of ice cream."

Dawn laughed nervously, wiping her tears with both hands. She took a deep breath, and it finally helped her regain what little composure she had lost. "Buffy."

"What?"

"My sister, her name was Buffy. I know ridiculous isn't it? Who names their kid, Buffy? Then again Dawn isn't much better."

"Well I rather like it actually," said Gabe as Garrett rolled him in. "I hope you don't mind us crashing the discussion. I just wanted to know if I needed to apologize for something. Because if I said anything, or did—"

"No Gabe, I'm fine. It's not you, it's the photo. And you two crashing is fine. I don't want to have to repeat this, and I guess in a way, I want you all to know."

"What? What about the picture?"

It took Dawn a moment before she mustered the strength to answer. "You're friend, Annie. She kind of looked like my sister Buffy." There was a beat following the revelation. Somehow the room grew awkward and suffocating, Gabe, among others, suddenly suspicious. "Not a lot, but just kind of. Like how she smiled in one of the picture you showed me."

"Didn't you mention something way back about Xander dating your sister?" asked Gabe confused and a little angry, though he did his best to keep it in check. "That's how he got custody of you, right?"

"Yeah… they were sort of engaged, right before she died."

"Why wouldn't Xander have told me that?"

"Maybe he didn't notice?" offered Katrina, trying to protect her friend, even though she already knew the answer to that question.

"Yeah, I mean Dawn said she looked a little like her. I mean some people say I look a little like Cordelia Chase sometimes," chimed in Sanaz before the quizzical looks she received from everyone forced her to retract, "alright, maybe not. But still, a lot of people look like other people. I mean we're all monkeys when you think about it. Ugly, ugly monkeys."

"I want to know how your mind works," replied Garret completely perplexed by her nervous babbling.

"Dawn?" persisted Gabe, sensing a cover-up. Dawn almost broke instantly, her eyes fleeing his questioning glare. However, years of living under the constant threat of being murdered or kidnapped, left one with a certain amount of pressure management.

"Maybe… I don't know. He could have missed it."

"Dawn," continued Gabe, unconvinced. "What's the story here? What is it, you're not telling me… and I'm hoping us." He threw a glance at all the occupants of the room. Both girls ran from it as Garrett casually opened himself up a bag of chips.

"I… I don't even know where to begin."

"Why don't you start telling us about your sister," mentioned Garrett. "How did her and Xander meet? I mean c'mon. You two have been living here a while and we know hardly anything about you both. It's ridiculous. We already know about the demons and about Xander assassinating a political figure. What can you possibly have hidden that's bigger than that."

Dawn considered it a moment, and realized Garrett was right. If Xander didn't want to share his past, that was his problem. These were her friends and she trusted them. She was entitled to unload a little.  

"See, Buffy, me and our mom. We all moved to Sunnydale when I was like ten or eleven. Buffy had gotten kick out of her last school back in LA for burning down the gymnasium; it was filled with vampires at the time, but somehow the authorities didn't buy that excuse."

"Vampires?"

"Yeah, my sister was a slayer, like Faith, but I didn't know that at the time."

"Another Slayer? I thought there was only—oh…"

"No, actually Faith and Buffy were… listen that's a long confusing story and it's all thanks to Xander anyways, so maybe we can skip it for now."

"Sure."

"Anyways, so we moved, and that was fine because my Mom and Dad had just split up. That's when she met Xander, first day of school. Apparently they bumped into each other, and Xander accidentally discovered her secret. Next thing they knew, Xander, Willow, and my sister, were this total crime-fighting trio, except with demons. They called themselves Scoobies. Pretty tacky, huh? Xander's idea at the time. He was pretty much of a geek back then, not at all Mr Badass. He was always getting his ass kicked, always risking his life in completely ridiculous ways, just because he had this obsession with protecting my sister."

"He was in love with her?"

"Yeah, from the first time he ever saw her. Totally obsessed for like two or three years. After that, it died down. He'd been dating—this other girl, and then Faith came into the picture."

"Let me guess," asked Katrina, rolling her eyes. "Love at first sight."

"No, actually. I don't think they thought about each other much, but she did take his virginity and tried to rape and murder him, so there you go. After that it was friction city between the two, not that they talked much before. After that, Faith decided to go evil, very much like right now. My sister and her had this really competitive relationship. Anyway, years passed by and Xander left Sunnydale after… after Anya died."

"Anya?"

"Yeah, his fiancé, his first one. It wasn't three months apart from when Willow died, and I think he just couldn't handle all that grief at once. She died in his arms. After that it was Alcohol County from then on. He snapped, he wasn't the same Xander anymore, like he had to kill some part of him to go on … and then he disappeared, for a little more than a year, almost two, I don't know. When he came back everything changed…"

The sound of a key being fumbled into a lock resonated from the outside of the Summers' house. Dawn slept quietly upstairs and despite the ruckus, it seemed whoever was trying to get in was careful not to wake her. They spoke in hush tones, one reprimanding the other for dropping the keys a few times. Finally, Xander pushed the door open with his knee, carrying a wounded but resilient Buffy over to her couch. She rolled her eyes, at his behavior, complaining as they went.

"You really don't need to carry me, Xand. I can walk. I'm fine."

"Yeah, well you've already tried plenty to tell me that on our way here, what makes you think I'm going to change my mind now that I'm five feet from your—and there we are. You still keep the first aid kit under the sink right?"

It took only a moment, and Xander was back carrying the expensive professional medkit, the basic equipment of a seasoned slayer. He knelt down by Buffy's foot and proceeded to pull back the blood soaked jeans from her leg. A large and deep gash flowed where the demon's sword had sliced her. The wound would have required surgery to heal properly if she had not been a slayer, but Xander knew right away all it needed was a little cleaning and stitching.

"I can do it."

"Oh I know," answered Xander with a grin, "but it wouldn't be as sexy if I let you do it."

Buffy rolled her tongue at the comment, faking annoyance not to flatter Xander's already large ego. "You do remember I can kick your ass anytime I want, right?"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't risk waking Dawn upstairs. She's got a Math test tomorrow. And c'mon, you know how much I love this. Taking care of you. Stealing a few touches of your very sexy tibia."

"Sexy tibia? Could you get more lame?"

"Probably, but we don't want to go there." Xander eyes' shined with confidence as he trailed his finger along Buffy's skin. To Buffy's surprise, he met her glare head on and with the same self-assured smile she had come to see often on his face for the last two weeks. Two weeks. It had only been two weeks since he was back in her life and already he was fitting right in like the missing piece of a puzzle. He had changed, but from what she could see it was only for the better. Dawn had already forgiven him, looking up to him for all the answers her sister couldn't provide. 

She watched him as he expertly stitched up her leg. He had lost much of that innocence she used to love about him, that normality she had envied him for. She could see things hadn't gotten better for Xander over the last year. He had brand new demons he didn't talk about, and they were unfortunately of the kind she couldn't slay for him. She still felt guilty over how they had left things.

"You handled yourself pretty well tonight, just so you know."

"Oh you mean taking out those three demons while you couldn't handle your two?"

"Well…. they had swords, and I was distracted… by how shiny those swords were. Shiny, shiny. I'm almost like a crow, you never noticed that about me?"

"Right, that had nothing to do with the fact that I'm a better swordsman than you."

"Yeah, but never that good. You really went highlander on my ass."

"There's other ways I'd like to get on ass."

"Xander, nobody likes cheap c'mon lines. Keep rubbing me that way and I'm likely to kick you out. Whether or not I wake up Faith and Dawn in the process."

"Sorry, you lost me at rubbing." Unwillingly, Buffy returned his devilish grin for a second. "Anyways, it's barely 3am. You should know by now Faith's still out in a bar, finding herself another replacement Boy Toy for the evening."

Buffy bit her lips as he went back to work. It was an opening, but she didn't know if she should take it. She didn't even know why she wanted to ask the question. She hesitated a moment, and gave in to her impulse.

"And does that bother, you?" Xander looked up at her question. He seemed surprised by it, but he quickly shook that off into something that resembled more amusement.

"We used to sleep together, Buffster. That's what you wanted to know, right? You can stop worrying; it was totally casual on both sides. My heart still belongs only to you."

"Are you so sure about that?" asked Buffy, quickly feeling awkward off Xander's enticing gaze, "I meant about Faith. She seems tense around me, jealous actually… in a femme fatale kind of way."

"Firecracker? Nah, she's just doesn't like to share her toys, and it's not like you two have the greatest history of friendly competition. Don't worry; it's Faith we're talking about here. Remember, "She doesn't take the guys she 'connects' with seriously". We might be buds but that's it trust me."

"Alright," she replied pensively, desperately scrambling for a change of subject. "You think you could ever hook me up with the guy who thought you how to fight. I mean I figure I should learn to handle a sword like you, since it's my duty and all."

"Hojiro? I wouldn't even know how to reach him. I looked him up when I got back in town, and he's not even listed anymore. He was always pretty secretive anyways. Maybe I can teach you?"

"That'd be awesome. I mean it's such an unusual fighting style, even I can't make head or tails of it."

"And you'd get another excuse to spend some quality, not to mention, sweaty time with me."

Buffy laughed, closing her eyes for a second as she shook her head, giving up any hopes to dissuade him from this behavior. In a way, the kind she'd never fess up to, it was very flattering. She had been feeling so lonely since Riley had left, just to know somebody found her attractive was almost intoxicating. When she opened them up again, Xander had moved up to sit on the edge of the couch

"We make a good team, huh?" asked Xander brushing away a strand of hair from her face, his hand lingering on there, caressing her skin gently. Suddenly, Buffy felt short of breath, as if some tension had risen between them.

"The best," she managed, trying to control her pulse.

"You know I really have missed you while I was gone."

"So you said."

"And you really missed me?"

"So I said."

"Took me for granted, didn't you?"

Buffy looked away feeling guilty. When she answered her voice was sad, only her pulsating jugular betraying her internal palpitation. "Kinda did."

"You ever pictured it that way?"

"Picture what?"

"The first time I kissed you?"

"What makes you so sure I've been picturing that? Wait, what makes you think we're going to kiss?"

"Well, because in five seconds I'm gonna kiss you regardless. And to answer your first question, it's because I'm fairly certain you're gonna kiss me back."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Xander took that opportunity to press his lips against hers. Passion took over them in less than a sec and Buffy was wrapping her arms around his neck, tightening the embrace. Neither of them knew how much time passed as their hands traveled over each other's body. Xander's heart was racing; Buffy moaned into his ear as he hungrily kissed her neck. Suddenly, it ended. Buffy broke the embrace, gently pushing herself off him, having long twisted herself on top.

"Don't tell me," said Xander exasperated at Buffy's gentle shy smile, " You think this is a mistake."

"No," replied Buffy, breathing hard. "I want to take things upstairs."

Leaning back against the nearest wall, Xander busied himself catching his breath, as Marcus finally came through the door. He had slowed down to a jog by then, and walked a few more moments in circles before allowing himself to collapse. Fifteen or so minutes of dashing through a maze of identical corridors and booby trapped rooms had left Marcus' breathing in an even worse shape than Xander's.

"You… you think… we lost him?"

"Yeah… I think we're good."

"So… what we do now, dog?"

"I don't know, find the exit, hope some other loony will take care of him for us. All right, gather up, we got to keep moving."

"One thing…" said Marcus as he struggled to pull himself to his feet. "… why clowns, dude?"

"They're creepy, man. They cry on the inside."

They walked silently for a while, given each other a chance to recover their stamina. Far, far in the distance, a dying scream could be heard. It had become such a common occurrence in the long few hours they'd been trapped here that they discarded it as any other background noise.

"Dog?"

"Yeah, Marcus?"

"Why did you bring me out here? I mean you didn't need me to come along?"

"Listen, I'm sorry I got you involved. I thought this would be a ride in the park."

"Nah, c'mon, that's bullshit. You always do everything by yourself. It's always got to be you against the world."

"Listen… I don't know what to tell you, Marcus. I'm sorry…I just…"

"Why man? Why me? Why couldn't you have asked Garret or went by yourself?" Xander suddenly came to a stop, his arm stretching out to block his friend's path. Xander sighed, realizing only the truth would get Marcus to shut up.

"Because you remind me of me when I was younger, alright?"  He left a beat to follow the bombshell. "I've been kind of an ass lately, because I wanted to protect you guys. After what happened with Gabe and Carl, it's like suddenly I'm living somebody else's life."

"What do you mean?"

"Growing up, I wasn't the superhero, Marcus, I wasn't even a hero. I was the sidekick, and a lousy one at that. All my friends had superpowers and I was the normal guy. I did all I could to help, but most of the time that just meant getting my ass kicked, and according to my friends at the time, risk getting killed for no good reason. See, I was foolish and overzealous, completely in love with a girl I couldn't have. All I had was this stupid and reckless determination to do what was right, to protect a girl that never even thanked me for it. I was so in love with the idea of living a comic book life, that I'd run around and almost get myself killed on a weekly basis. Just like you."

"See, you had me at, you remind me of me, and then you way lost me when the insults started to come out."

"Marcus, I'm not trying to insult you, it's not like you're a carbon copy of me, but in ways we're a lot alike."

"Yeah, really? How exactly?"

"Like how you're secretly jonesing for Katrina, and the mere mention of her name is enough to get you here. In a major puppet-like way."

"What? I… don't know… how did you know?"

"I'm not blind, and like I said, I used to be of the secretly pining kind; we can smell our own."

"Okay so we real alike. Bra-fucking-vo, Gramps. I bow to your powers of seeing how pathetic I am."

"Marcus! You're not pathetic, and that's why I brought you here!"

"You're making the kind of sense that doesn't!"

"Okay, how's this then? My friends thought I was useless. I wasn't. They thought I couldn't handle myself, that I'd get killed. I'm alive, they're not. I'm living proof that you don't need superpowers to do what's right. Look at me now. All bad and dangerous. But back then, when I was you, I remember how it felt to have my friends cast me aside, when all I wanted to do was help. I remember that now, and I'm sorry I ever forgot. Because I'm treating you how they treated me Marcus. You're my friend, you're not useless, more importantly, it's your life and if you want to risk it, then fine, I'm not going to stop you from helping. And maybe one day, if you're unlucky enough to live through years of this shit, maybe the fact that I made sure you understood how valuable all you guys can be to me, maybe that could keep you from becoming what I am. I just wanted to make sure you felt appreciated; give you something I've never had. I should have known I'd just end up getting you killed or worse."

"Maybe if you really meant that, dog, you wouldn't be blaming yourself, like some kind of brooding looser. So what? You got me in this mess, so yeah, I'm pissed at you. Don't get me wrong; love the speech, warms up my heart to think you think of me like that. But if you think I'm just gonna mellow out, melt in your arms and be yours forever, Titanic style, then you didn't see the god damn iceberg hit the deck at the end of the movie. I'm your friend, and whether or not I got a genuine basis for it, I reserve myself the right to get pissed at you, especially in high-pressure situations, just like this one. You got that? Oh and for the record, I came, my fault!" 

Marcus poked his finger hard, at Xander's chest, taken by some mysterious fury. He was flattered by his friend's attitude, and perhaps it was this elevation of his ego by a man he respected and feared, or perhaps it was simply the pressure getting to him, that had given him such boldness. Trembling, but determined, Marcus had completely disregarded the situation, or their relationship, and spoke his mind; he didn't want his friend to blame himself in case something happened, and he certainly didn't want to rescind his anger toward the situation either. He was allowed to feel this way, and he wouldn't have his friend rob him of that by rousing his pity. To Marcus, Xander smiling, glowing as if inspired by the speech, seemed to be proof enough of success. The image of a young boy poking a bear in the eye would come to Marcus until much later.

"I got it."

"Thank you, now let's bust our asses out of—" His sentence ended instead with Marcus, cocking his head to the left to check out a girl that had just busted into their hallway. Quite a few paces away from Xander, the girl had just slammed the door behind her. Breathless, she pressed her head against the door, half-recovering, half-listening for sign of her pursuer.  Marcus studied her figure with an unwilling interest. The girl, her back to them, still offered quite a view. Her figure was petite, yet voluptuous, her torn clothes accenting every curve, revealing smooth creamy skin. Her long blond hair bathed in the blood flowing from a large gash on her shoulder. Marcus was so busy, he never noticed Xander's eerie look of uneasiness.

The feeling pulsing in Xander's chest exploded when what he feared, when what he thought couldn't possibly be true, what denied every logical explanation, revealed itself. When the girl, sensing someone's presence, slowly turned around, Marcus witnessed a simultaneous gasp.

"Buffy?" Xander was practically hyperventilating, the name coming out with each of its syllables broken.

"Xander?" She for herself seemed relieved, as if she saw in Marcus' friend the first foreseeable happy ending to a nightmare. She didn't skip a beat, not sharing Xander's near swooning stupefaction, and started bolting toward them. "Oh my god! Thank god you're here!"

Pale as a sheet, his eyes almost vitreous, Xander still didn't move. 

"Buffy?" he managed again, after staring at his friend as if the latter could confirm he wasn't dreaming. When he turned his head back toward her, she was already half-way through the corridor. Xander finally smiled, giving in to the fantasy, still breathing hard, but involuntarily laughing as he started walking forward. "Buffy!" And then, that's when he saw it somehow, the subtle depression in the ground ahead, a few tiles slightly more elevated than the others. Suddenly, his expression of pure joy turned to terror. "Buffy! No!"

He dashed forward, as Buffy looking at him quizzically, threw a quick glance over her shoulder, thinking somebody might be trying to ambush her from the back. When she snapped her head around, having not slowed her pace, she heard the click. The walls, quick as lighting, collapsed on her, spikes reaching out from hidden holes. She closed her eyes and shrieked, not noticing the thud ahead. 

After a few surprising moments, the realization of life occurred to her. Opening her eyes one at the time, she peered at the walls. They were frozen in place, their spikes still a good few inches from her on either side. Straight ahead, Xander hung five foot above the ground, caught in a split between the two walls. He groaned from the strain of his legs wedging the very heavy walls apart, a bead of sweat was already sliding down his reddening face.

"Whoa!" said Marcus from the back, having witnessed Xander's heroic quick thinking in its entire splendor.

"Xander!" Buffy yelped as she hugged him tightly.

"Buffy! Caught… between walls… right now…. happy to see you….  very happy… but WALLS!!!!!"

"Oh right! Huh… what do we do?" she asked as Marcus ran up to join them.

"You're… asking… ME!"

"Dog, doesn't that hurt?" asked Marcus, distraught by a large wound a nearby spike had slashed underneath Xander's calf.

"Trying… not… to think… about it… thanks for reminding… me… Marcus—whoa!" The last yelp came with a sudden jolt of Xander's body, his legs bending a little at the knee as they slowly gave under the tremendous weight. His arms went out toward both sides in a protective fashion. "Buffy! Pry that thing open… NOW!"

"I don't know how to. I don't have my strength!"

"What?"

"I don't have my strength. I don't know what's going—"

"Okay… story time… later! Rip a door down… use it to…"

"Got it!" Buffy replied anticipating the rest of his statement. "You come with me." 

Marcus followed, not certain who the girl was, but she deducing she meant something to Xander. They hurried to the nearest door and started pulling down at it with their collective weight. It failed and they switched to other unsuccessful ways to take it down. As they took a quick pause to try to brainstorm new ideas, the sound of chainsaw cutting through a door ahead had Xander panicking.

"That sounds like the clown that was pursuing me before," commented Buffy as his maniacal laugh came storming from down the hallway.

"You saw that dude too?" asked Marcus, surprised, but talking lightly as one does when realizing he has a common acquaintance with a newly met individual.

"Hey guys… HURRY! Get that door now! Now! Now!"

"We're trying!" 

"So is he! HURRY!"

"Well if you're gonna be like this…"

"He's out!" yelled back Xander at Buffy, this time, she seemed to take him more seriously. Her and Marcus exchanged a panicked glance and started kicking and trashing themselves at the door. Meanwhile Xander watched in dread, as the maniacal clown, darted down the space separating them, chainsaw raised high. "He's coming! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna get killed by a stupid clown!"

His legs trembled, fatigued beyond measure; he thought he had almost no strength left. The clown was only a few paces away, and by then it had become very clear that they'd never take the robust door in time. He was about to die, it seemed utterly hopeless, and yet Xander was ecstatic. Buffy was alive. He was overjoyed, suddenly all his problems, all his pain had vanished. His hero was back, and he wasn't going to miss her welcome home party. Turning his attention back toward the clown, Xander swore he would live through this, and then let his quick thinking do the rest.

"Xander!" yelled Buffy as she saw the clown only a few feet from Xander, dashing between the spikes, his chainsaw already coming down. From her and Marcus' perspective, it looked like it was all over. Xander was about to be mowed down and there was nothing neither of them could do, but then suddenly, Xander gave a short but powerful push with both legs. The walls swung back a little, giving the trap the illusion of hanging open for a moment as Xander fell, flipping backward and barely out of the chainsaw's deadly arc. In a split second, the walls closed on themselves in a crunching splatter of blood, Xander barely pulling away in time.

The clown yelled painfully, but only once, the air quickly gasping out of his pierced lungs. Xander found that strangely satisfying, despite his own painful and ungraceful landing.

"Who's crying on the inside now, bitch!"


	4. Never me...

Never me…

Waking up from a dream should taste so sweet as that morning did to Xander. Her perfume on his skin marked the end of a journey that had taken seven years of waiting. Finally, her taste was on his lips, and all he needed to watch her in all of her naked magnificence was to turn his head sideways. Her body felt so right nuzzled up against his.

"Morning…" she spoke softly, her eyes shining with sweetness "…tiger."

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say those exact words to me."

"Do I get a guess or do I have to torture it out of you?" Buffy grinned, as she moved up to kiss him passionately. Xander sighed with pleasure as she pulled away laughing proudly. 

"Torture is starting to sound good."

"Oh really…" The flirting was so pleasurable, so much more filled with passion now that he had no doubt she wanted him. Xander suddenly looked away, struck with the paranoia that afflicts all those that reach their life's goal. Almost no doubt…

"So," he ventured with another, less lively sigh, "you don't regret last night?"

"No," she answered a little too quickly, but Xander didn't notice. Truth was that Buffy had not yet considered it. She hadn't yet let the consequences of her impulsive action sink in. She had only had time to enjoy the long forgotten sensation of a man making love to her; a sudden banquet celebrating the end of an unwanted year long fast. Sleeping with Xander, as strange as the idea was still to her, had been an explosion of much needed flavors, and she had not yet finished savoring. She had barely gotten around to fantasizing about telling Faith about the indiscretion, reveling in the pleasure of coming around. As most fantasies, it was not one she planned to pursue, one she even believed would necessarily be possible given Faith's "don't give a shit" tendencies. Buffy would still have liked time to indulge in it. 

Xander, was unfortunately oblivious to that, even going so far as to forget the most common sense caution, though he was hardly to blame. Last night had been pure ecstasy, and Xander had had quite a bit of experience with that word in the last year with Faith. A man, any man, that touches his heaven so closely, finds himself lost in a sea of emotions, forced by the currents into places he would never sanely tread. Xander was fairly certain he had scratched Buffy's own seven year itch, and that notion blinded him like a scorching sun does to a cast away. It all felt so perfect, and perhaps that's why he made the mistake.

"I love you." 

Buffy's face turned pale. She sat upright and turned her back on him. The emotions surging through her, much like Xander's declaration, felt premature. She was suddenly angry at Xander for pushing her so quickly into a corner.  

"Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she answered flatly, getting up and starting to dress. Xander's heart was panicking, and his eyes darted left and right confused. It hit him around the time she was snapping her bra back on. Xander closed his eyes and cursed himself.

"Dammit, you don't feel the same way. I should have known you couldn't, I'm just Xander after all…" His voice was angry as he violently flipped the covers off of him, reaching for his own discarded clothes.

"Xander! Quiet!" Buffy shushed him with a finger, "You'll wake, Dawn!"

"Already awake," said Dawn leaning against the frame of the open bedroom. She was all decked out for school already, wearing her pack over one shoulder, and a smirk. "Just wanted to let you know I made you guys breakfast. By the way, thanks for the concern Buff but you might have wanted to think of that last night when you were yelling 'Xander! Xander! Do it, do it now! Please!'"

"Dawn!" Buffy exclaimed completely appalled.

"Don't worry I slapped my earphones on when you got to 'Ride me like a pony!' part; there are some things I just don't want to know. Anyways, I got to run; I'm late for my test. Oh, by the way Xander," Dawn threw an obvious glance toward the lower part of Xander's naked and exposed body. She smiled wickedly, before giving him a wink. "Wow!"

"Xander! Cover yourself!" yelled Buffy at her flustered companion who could not find his pants or underwear. Finally he settled for a nearby pillow, but Dawn had long disappeared by then, rushing herself off to her math test with great satisfaction at her morning escapade. "Great, now you've exposed yourself to my sister. I sense a movie of the week in the works."

"I'm sorry, she caught me by surprise."

"Yeah, the morning just seems full of unexpected surprises." Buffy's words were surprisingly venomous and she regretted them almost instantly. She witnessed the pain flash across Xander's face, anger simmering under his features. It took him an instant, but Xander soon had himself under control, trading places with Buffy who lost herself to her guilt.

"Don't worry, Buff. I'll pack my shit and head out for the nearest motel. Sorry to have inconvenienced you with my feelings." 

"No! I mean… Xander, you can't just throw me a bombshell like that and expect me to be fine with it."

"What am I supposed to do then Buffy? I've been in love with you since high school, you expect me to pretend that isn't true. I didn't think I needed to play games with you."

"And you don't Xander," yelled Buffy before pausing a moment to calm herself down. Xander seemed to take the opportunity to do the same, reflecting quickly on how infantile he was being. "It's just…. this is all going down way too fast. You might have been thinking about this for a long time, but this is new to me. I haven't even begun to think about us as an item, you expect me to turn around and tell you I feel the same way you do?"

"So you do regret last night."

"No…" she answered this time more sincerely. "… but you got to give me time Xander. I don't even know if I'm still capable of feeling that way. After Angel, Parker and Riley… I don't know Xander, I think I might have gotten my heart broken one too many times… but if you'd like to find out, and if you're willing to give me time… I'd like to as well. I understand if you wouldn't want to take the risk though."

"Buffy," said Xander gently as he crossed over to take her hands into his, "you already know my answer."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Time flew by for Xander, as he tightened the hug once more. He could have stayed forever in Buffy's embrace, her arms warm and full of life. He didn't care about why and how, though he would ask soon enough anyways; he was just glad to have her back. Eventually, for the first time since he had come to know her, she complained of how tightly he squeezed her.

"Can't… breathe…"

"Sorry," said Xander with a goofy smile. He wiped tears of joys from his eyes, not caring about being discrete. "I don't know who I have to thank, Buff, but they just became my new god."

"Thank who? For what?" asked Buffy looking puzzled by his reaction. "Did you hit yourself on the head again?"

"I'm currently praying that the answer to that is no, Buff." Xander reached out and squeezed her arm gently.  "It's good to have you back."

"Back? What are you talking about Xander?" asked Buffy gearing up for a major case of the wiggins. Xander was taken aback, disturbed she didn't know.  She didn't remember; how could he tell her?

"You don't… What's the last thing you flashback, Buff?"

"Last thing I remember is fighting Asmodeus, and then wham! I'm here and without my powers. Now I got some fashion victim telling me I'm being judged. This feels about as creepy as watching a re-run of the eighties. What's going on, Xander?"

"Yo Xand," asked Marcus thinking he'd been more than polite, and that his friend could use a distraction by the look on his face. "I'm gathering her name's Buffy, but you think you could--?"

"Oh," interrupted Xander, thankful for his buddy's slick maneuvering. He needed the precious seconds this would buy him to figure out what to say to her. "Buffy meet my friend Marcus. My friend Marcus, meet Buffy Summers, scourge of things that need scourging—whatever scourging means."

"Summers?" asked Marcus as he shook her hand.

"Dawn's older and usually slayery sister."

"Oh!" exclaimed Marcus. 

"You know Dawn? Xander, for the last time what's going on, and why the hell do you have facial hair?" When she saw the uneasiness in his eyes, Buffy seemed to deduce her answer and bit down on her lip to control her anger. In reality, it was to hide the wicked smile that was threatening to form on Melinda Posey's poisonous lips. "How long was I gone?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"No sir… No I assure you… why would I… What could I possibly be hiding from you?… All I'm saying is that perhaps we should wait before committing… Alright… as you wish. I promise you Faith will be on her way with the package before the end of the day. Good day, sir." 

The pulsating whine of a treephop beat, rang through the unbelievably expensive surround sound system. Mason's office was filled with electric pulses masquerading as the soft lament of an acoustic guitar and the sad lingering chords of a piano. They sounded more real than the real thing, and that was perhaps why Mason liked it so much. It didn't hurt either that it matched the tone of his internal turmoil, which quieted with his sixth glass of whisky. Generally, he wasn't a drinker, but today was a special occasion. 

"We need to talk," announced Faith as she strolled into the office, angry yet again. 

"Yes," said Mason preempting Faith's little speech, "I believe we do." 

"What the hell are you watching?" Faith was suddenly distracted from her purpose as she turned to the TV panel to the left of Mason's desk. On it were multiple scenes of Buffy's life, recorded from different angles. The scene playing right then was post-army Xander having dinner with Buffy and from the look of things, Faith figured that was the day he had proposed some three months after their return to Sunnydale.

"Wolfram and Heart surveillance tape. They started gathering intelligence on all of Angel's friends after the Connor fiasco. I've had Miss Posey study the tape over the last two months, so she could properly impersonate miss Summers. Did you know psychopaths are natural mimics; seemingly that's how they manage to hide in human society. Fascinating isn't it?"

"Whatever."

"By the way, I understand you and her had a chat before she left for the tribunal. Anything you'd like to share?"

"She just had some questions on Xand and Buff, wanted to trade professional secrets. Nothing too fancy; don't worry, I gave her the 411."

"Good. Now listen, I'm afraid whatever angry rant you have about not including you in the decision process is going to have to wait. I have an important job for you, in fact it comes straight from the boss."

"What is it?"

"Seems he wants to meet you, But he's rather big on tradition. I'm afraid he'd like you to bring along a gift. In fact, he has something particular in mind."

Mason's smile made Faith strangely uncomfortable as he slid a familiar item across the desk. She watched the blood stained metal for a second, and understood everything. Unsure of what she should feel, Faith took a deep nervous breath. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Please… please…. just kill me…" begged the near motionless vampire, as Buffy pummeled him again and again. Her features distorted with rage, she struck and struck, showing no intention to stop and simply stake the poor, by now deformed vampire. Finally, having vented enough and taking pity on the soulless beast, she jammed the wooden shaft into his heart and he vanished with an unsatisfying poof. 

Buffy groaned and was soon up and about, looking for another undead punching bag. She murmured to herself angrily, not noticing Faith even as she walked by her.

"You five by five there, B.?"

Buffy was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost staked Faith as she spun around instinctively. "Oh, Faith. Kinda answered your question there with the jumpiness and the near death experience, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself, I could have taken ya B.," Faith was smiling, a rare sight as of late. It hadn't been long since her and Buffy had finally patched things up, or rather the former had stopped acting like such a bitch around Xander's girlfriend. Faith was still getting use to it, but showing friendly concern for her fellow slayer was almost second nature. "Else than that, yes. So what's up, and how can I use it against you?"

"Why don't you just lay off?"

"Relax, B., just messing with you. Didn't think you'd flip." They walked in silence after that, Faith not wanting to push whatever was eating at Buffy. She had no idea that that's exactly what Buffy had wanted, and eventually the latter caved in.

"It's not… it's Xander! Huh!" Buffy was clearly irritated.

"What did lover boy do now?"

"He proposed!" yelled Buffy, flashing the ring on her finger. Faith was struck a blow, suddenly her insides were torn out, and the gleaming metal of the expensive engagement ring seemed like the spinning blade of a blender. She kept it cool though. Stone faced as a killer on parole. Only her breathing gave her away, but Buffy was way too self-involved to notice.

"Jeez… the bastard."

"Yeah! I know!" agreed Buffy not taking notice of the sarcasm in Faith's voice. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Maybe not accepting the ring might have been a good first step."

"Ah, c'mon! He proposed in a restaurant full of people. How was I supposed to say no without humiliating him? And you know how sensitive he is in the first place."

"Well, not really actually," answered Faith with a little grief in her voice.

"I mean what would you have done—never mind. You probably would have just blown him off." 

As much as it hurt to admit it, Buffy was right. Faith liked the idea of being a heartless bitch, though as nails, use them and loose them. It was all great on paper. It was not so great in a mirror though, especially when it applied to the first person she could recall actually caring about.

"I don't get it B. I thought you liked Xander? I thought things were going great between you two."

"They were—they are. But why does he have to rush so fast into everything, we've only been going out like three months."

"To me that's an eternity B."

"But not to me! I'm not like you, Faith, it's not just about sex; it can't be. I have feelings, and more importantly he does." Just about when Faith was thinking of ways she could turn this situation into her favor, the idea melted away with Buffy's tears. "I don't want to hurt him Faith, but it's all moving so damned fast. I can't even bring myself to say 'I love you' and he knows that, says he doesn't care. Well I do!"

"What do you mean you can't say it?"

"Can you?" asked Buffy defiantly. She stared up from the ground where she had let herself fall in her desperation. The look, even though coming out of eyes glazed and shiny with tears, was like a knife at Faith's throat. Suddenly, Buffy softened up, realizing with disgust what she was doing. "Oh god, I'm sorry Faith. I didn't… I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be talking to you about this. I know you feel something for…" 

"Whoa, who says I feel anything for anybody!" yelled back Faith louder than she had wanted to.

"C'mon, I see how you look at him—how you look at my boyfriend. And funnily enough, I've got enough experience dealing with you wanting my boyfriends to know it's not just because he's got the job title. Hell, I see it in your eyes when we're all together."

"You got it all wrong B.," replied Faith venomously, now face to face with her fellow slayer. "It's all about the sex. I miss the lay. He was good, I know, I shaped him, taught him all the tricks, and now you got all the lick privileges. So fuck yeah, I wouldn't say no to a taste every once in a while, but no, you got to be hogging all the toys."

"Oh sorry I don't want to share this one, I mean you've already slept with Riley, tried to steal Angel, why not add this one to the list. Oh wait, you've already slept with him too!"

"What is it? Afraid of the competition? Afraid he might scream louder between my thighs than yours?"

"I don't see a ring on your finger!"

"So what are you complaining about?" asked Faith wrestling with mixed feelings about her slickness. She saw the effect she had printed on Buffy's face and she did feel proud of that, but she cursed herself at the same time for not using the same control to leave with the prize. "You got what you want, right? You're happy?"

"I… I  don't know… it's all so fast…"

Instinct and desire having always ruled Faith, she was surprised it had taken them this long to take over, even if it was tamely. "Maybe you should tell him then. I mean, he deserves better doesn't he? I mean Xander's a great guy right, he's been there for me, I'm sure as hell you know he's been there for you. Maybe Xander deserves a girl that loves him back, a girl that's not a slayer, a girl that doesn't have an expiry date on her. I mean, he's already lost Anya and Willow, you really want to have him live through that again? Maybe you're just being selfish, maybe if you really cared about him, you'd set him free, you know?"

Buffy started sobbing and Faith felt sorry for the tactic; her desire for Xander was clouding her judgment. However, this time around she realized that there was more to this than Buffy was telling. There was something she was holding back, or that held her, she wasn't too sure about that part.

"What is it B., I know we're not the best of friends, but last I checked we're all each other's got. So fess up, I swear for once I won't betray you."

"I'm pregnant," the bombshell froze the conversation up for what seemed like ages. Faith's knee started to shake, and swallowing hard, she sat down by Buffy before her knees gave from under her. The blond haired slayer instantly lunged herself at Faith and pulled her into a suffocating hug. When she pulled out, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her paranoia instantly took the reins, "Xander doesn't know Faith… I don't want him to, not for now."

"He's got—"

"—a right to know, yeah I know. I'm just freaking out… this the Hellmouth, what's new? I just need sometime, time to figure things out."

"Lucky you then, because G-man had me run over here to get you, major trouble brewing."

 "Good, I could use one of those."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Got it!" exclaimed Marcus as he slid a stone upward. They'd been faced by the puzzle for the last twenty minutes. Buffy and Xander couldn't make head or tails of it and they had repeatedly suggested trying to ram their way through the stonewall. Suddenly, the baroque shape Marcus had been working on took life, fusing into the spinning indent of a wheel. With a thud and a cloud of dust, the walls parted slowly. Marcus smiled like no tomorrow at his victory. "Told you it'd be nothing."

"You can say that again," quipped Buffy as an electrical hiss of thousands of saws came roaring from behind Marcus. The latter snapped his head around, and took a step back by reflex.

The corridor beyond the puzzle door was a maddening maze of death, knives and saws coming out of every angle at furious speed. Every once in a while a spark would fly as a C-saw-like blade would intersect with a spear. The corridor seemed to run for a good 50 feet with what seemed like a thousand weapons intersecting at rapid and random intervals. Through the storm of chrome and alloy, the gang could see a lever, mocking them in all its safe wooden glory.

"We got to find a way to get to that lever," pointed out Buffy, "I bet it controls the swords."

"There doesn't seemed to be a way," added Marcus pessimistically. Meanwhile, Xander's eyes were fixed on the blades, scanning rapidly from left to right, up to down. His eyes traveled at computer speed.

"How about right through there?"

"Are you insane, dog? Actually, forget I asked that, but still, this is a gigantic blender."

"I see a pattern!" replied Xander with gusto, as much trying to convince himself as his friend. He pounced from one foot to the other, warming as boxers do as he slipped off his leather jacket.

"Xander… what if you're wrong!" exclaimed Buffy, still calculating whether it was better to get rid of him now, or to wait until they had cleared all the obstacles to the exit.

"Then I'm dead wrong," said Xander before giving Buffy a brief kiss and launching himself into the hallway. Twisting and turning right off the bat, Xander barely weaved through the first sets of living blades, a spear scratching him on the arm as it darted unexpectedly from the ground in front of him. There was no turning back though, no place to take a rest or to think up a new strategy. Xander could only move forward now without loosing a beat, hoping his reflexes were adequate enough.

Xander slid under a horizontal saw, pouncing high from off his shin to jump over the following one. Rolling now, he twisted to one side as he swiftly got to his feet, avoiding yet another set of spears. Xander was pulling acrobatics after acrobatics, never getting more than a step or two forward before he had to snap away from an incoming slice. Increasingly Xander felt as if he was a step behind, always dodging death closer and closer. Catching himself in an impasse, Xander ran up the wall, spinning through a small opening between intersecting saws. Landing brought no satisfaction for the fancy move, as he was up and running again, realizing with horror he was only half way through.

His breathing was out of control. He could even hear it over the buzzing of the saws and the swoosh of the razor sharp edges slicing the air by his face. Sweat slid down his face, stinging his eyes as he swung his arm in large circles, pulling them away just in time, swinging them back in time to block a spear, breaking another one. Grunts escaped his mouth, fear printed on his face, as everything moved faster and faster. Three quarter of the way, and Xander felt like he had just lost another step. He was desperate, loosing his balance over and over again as he pulled away a little too late from the blades. Buffy and Marcus holding their breaths. Xander, almost panicked, his breathing increasing along with the speed of the blender. Faster. Faster. Xander seeing his death ahead of him, knowing he couldn't pull away, couldn't slow down or change his movements. He was lost in the motion, so close to the lever, now. He wouldn't make it; he had to take a risk. Desperately, Xander suddenly spun, going down low before falling in a sitting position, sweat spraying outward from his face as he grunted. His arm outstretched, he reached for the lever without looking. His back against the wall, he shut his eyes as a sword swung for his throat.

A beat.

Xander opened his eyes one at a time, relived at the sudden quiet. The blade was but a quarter of an inch from his jugular, but it, along with all the others, was motionless. He sighed, the tension leaving his body. He couldn't help laughing as he carefully turned toward his friends. 

"That was close," he admitted, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Not—really," said Buffy. Surprised by her reaction, Xander gave her a confused look and that's when he noticed the same stupefaction on Marcus face. Both his friends seemed to stare ahead of him, and he quickly snapped his head back toward the lever. It was indeed pushed away, but something instantly felt wrong. Xander outstretched his arm as he had before, and realized with a morbid astonishment that he didn't even come close from reaching its initial position.

----------------------------------------------

"It just moved on its own, you're sure?"

"For the fiftieth time, dude, I don't know! The blades were in the way. All I think I saw is your arm go up, and then I think—it's almost like you pushed it from a distance."

Xander shook his head. For the last fifteen minutes, he'd been trying to make sense of what had happened back there. Maybe it was just a trick to mess with his mind. Somehow though, he didn't find that explanation convincing enough. His thoughts wandered back to his last fight with Faith, to the moment everything had literally slowed down around him. Skoll cold on his skin, Xander was all out of answers.

"Nothing makes sense."

"Maybe its all a freaky dream," offered Buffy, "remember, the first time that happened, there was a clown too."

"How come with you guys, it be all 'I remember that time in high school where the demons did this', or 'remember that thing we killed, or that tried to eat us'. I mean, C'mon. My teenhood was all zit and bullies."

"And strangely somehow, we envy you."

"Maybe it would help if you told me what happened to me."

"Buffy! I told you, there will be plenty of time for that once we get out of here."

"But what if—"

"Trust me, its not relevant. You're here for the same reason I am, somebody must have argued to get you on the list. There's no way you'd be here otherwise."

"I died didn't I?" 

Xander slowly came to a stop. The guilt on his face gave him away as he tried to figure out something to say. Her question, he knew, was almost a statement, but he didn't know how she would react to his acknowledgement. More importantly, he was no longer sure of the answer, despite the image of Buffy lying in his arms whispering those last painful words into his ear.

"Buffy," he answered with difficulty, "I got tortured so bad and so long down there, I barely knew who I was when I escaped. I couldn't tell you for sure, I couldn't tell you anything."

"Tortured?" asked Buffy stepping closer to him. "Oh my god! It's all my fault."

"Don't start."

"No, Xander. I shouldn't have brought you along. I should have gone by myself."

"How did you expect me to let you do that? It's not your fault Buffy, it's not always all about you. And if only I'd known you were pregnant, I would never…"

"You know!"

"Faith told me, about a year later. We had a fight and she knew just the thing to say to get the last word. I can't believe you didn't trust me, or even Giles."

"I couldn't let you know—I…"

"Guys," interrupted Marcus, walking back from a little scouting. As interested by the discussion as he had been, he had felt uncomfortable listening to what was obviously none of his business and had quietly wandered off farther down the corridor. "I think I found the exit."

Buffy and Xander kept staring at each other for a moment. Xander had so much to say to her, and Melinda had so many lies to make up. She had him completely convinced and she loved every second of it. Soon, it would be over though. If Marcus had indeed found the exit, then both men had outlived their usefulness. She would enjoy killing Xander; the perfect desert to a great meal.

Eventually, Xander reluctantly decided to suspend the discussion, and they all headed down the hallway. Escaping was more of a priority than clearing the air between them. He followed Marcus into a large room that was flooded with water. It was empty save for a large door carved out of sandstone atop large steps that rose out of the water. Atop the landing, large freestanding columns stood broken and eroded by time, broken pieces tipping into the water below.

"Careful," said Xander as he took the lead into the water. It wasn't too deep. At its deepest the water rose slightly under his hips and it made walking rapidly difficult. He moved carefully, expecting some sea monster to attack; he was already surprised that the water hadn't been electrified or been some form of corrosive agent. However, as strange as it seemed, everything turned out to be completely safe. 

"We made it!" exclaimed Marcus as he pounced ahead toward the door. It was about four times his size, but that didn't stop him from trying to pull it open, sliding his hands into large slit. The door answered his enthusiasm with a thud and he pulled away displeased.

"That would have been way too anti-climatic."

"So what now?" asked Buffy, rubbing her arms to warm up.

"I don't know, maybe there's a key or something."

"Huh, guys?" Marcus voice had a touch of dismay as he brought up their attention to an inscription on top of the door. Buffy almost shrieked as her eyes went over the words, while Xander, with a sinking resolve, read the words aloud.

"Only one may leave."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn's eyes were dried up. She had no more tears to cry, but her eyes, red and irritated, still carried the ghost of her sorrow. She hadn't sobbed though, and she was proud of at least that. Xander might have buried his feelings along with the rest of his heart, but she still had hers and she didn't want to part with them. She was strong enough to live with the pain; it was a small price to pay for her, and anytime she doubted her reasoning, she would look at Xander's misery and swear never to let herself become him.

"Honey, you want a glass of water or something?"

"I'm going to be just fine, Sanaz. Thanks anyways. Where was I?"

"You were telling us about Glory," answered Garret, "The thing I don't get is why she was after you. I mean, your sister was the slayer, so what? She was stronger than your sister so why not just kill her?"

Dawn hesitated a second. It wasn't question of trusting them, she just simply stopped thinking of herself as the key. In her mind, she was more than an antediluvian form of energy. She was Dawn Summers, flesh and blood, but they deserved to know. "See, the thing is—" 

"The thing I still don't understand," interrupted Gabe, "is why Xander never bother to tell me your sister looked like my girlfriend."

"Oh c'mon Gabe," howled Katrina "Let it go would you?"

"Maybe I'd let go if you and Sanaz here started talking!"

The short stand off ended with the doorbell and Katrina headed for the door in a huff. She understood where Gabe was coming from, but she had just about enough of melodrama for one day. Still glaring back at her friend, she swung the door open a little more harder than she should have; sound of wood banging against plaster. A wave of heat entered, along with the smoky voice. 

"Hey Vanilla!" Katrina snapped her head straight just as Faith's fist connected with her face, giving her a nice close up of the slayer's knuckle as it turned her world to black. 

Faith moved quickly, closing the distance between her and Garret in a flash. Her heel landed squarely on his solar plexus and the air burst out of his lungs as he crashed unconscious against the nearest wall. Sanaz barely made a move before a back elbow to the head sent her swimming away into darkness to join her friends.

After that, Faith, her best game face on, stalked forward decisively. Gabe wheeled backward, positioning himself between the incoming slayer and Dawn. He raised his arm, motioning for her to stop, but Faith merely grabbed the side of his chair and violently flipped him several feet away into the kitchen. Dawn gasped as her back hit the wall; she had just run out of room to retreat.

Faith slammed her hand right next to Dawn's head, causing the younger woman to jump, as Faith got real close to her face. "Guess what Dawnie? I'll give you a clue, it use to happen to you on a regular, almost weekly basis." 

Dawn thought about the riddle an instant and her eyes darted to the floor when the answer sunk in. "Oh…"

"Try to think of it as a field trip."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"So what we do now?" asked Marcus as Xander hedged back toward the water. He was quiet and stared at the near opaque liquid as if it held some dark, gloomy revelation. There was only one way out, and he knew exactly what it was.

"We have to find some—" Buffy's voice died off as Xander interrupted her. 

"No," he kept his back to her as he spoke. He didn't want to face her just yet. "We don't find anything. There's no answer here, no tricks or last minute save. We just have to give it what it wants."

"What are you saying, Xander?" Buffy sounded scared, the air loudly scouring into her lungs. Xander slowly turned around; his eyes were full of tears. 

"I'm not loosing you again." He slowly knelt down on the submerged steps, his upper body surging out of the water. His face was quiet, almost sickly; he looked like a dead man swallowing hard. He threw a knife at Buffy's feet.

"No!" said Buffy shaking her head, crying convincingly. " No, Xander I…"

"It's the only way, Buffy. I'm not gonna take your life, and believe me, I deserve this anyways."

"Xander that's not true."

"Yes it is, and I'm glad that you don't know just how much."

"Whoa, Xander!" interrupted Marcus as Buffy reluctantly picked up the knife. "Don't I get a say in this? I mean dude, you do this, we both go to hell."

"I'm sorry Marcus, but that's a price I'm willing to pay." Marcus expression of horror intensified as he became conscious of something very disturbing about his friend. Today he discovered the limitation of his friendship, and his chilling cold heartlessness. "Maybe, you can convince them to let you leave with Buffy."

"Maybe! What's the matter with you maybe! This is damnation we're talking about. Death might be another thing, but this an eternity of torment which I sure as hell don't deserve.  Two against one, I say we go for the numbers."

"He's right Xander. I should be the one to go. I'm the one that's supposed to be dead. I don't even have my powers anymore."

"Dawn needs you Buffy, and you've always been the hero. You're it Buffy. I'm barely human; I'm fucking monster. This!" he yelled holding his hand. "This is just flesh and blood, it might be human, but my insides died away a long time ago. You'll always be the better hero, Buffy. The world needs you. It needs me like it needs another plague."

"I can't do this," she answered, advancing slowly. She sobbed without control.

"Think of Dawn," said Xander as he lifted his head, offering his throat to the blade. She started to raise it high, trembling as she went. Xander looked a last time into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered, bringing the knife down. 

Suddenly, Xander lifted his arm to block the knife strike. The move came a little too late and the blade buried itself into his forearm, piercing though, the bloodied tip peeking out through the other side. It stopped only an inch from his Adam's apple. Xander's eyes burned with rage, and before Buffy could do anything he pounced upward and grabbed her by the throat. His right hand crisped tightly around her airway as his left arm swung back to hang by his side, the knife still embedded. Xander seemed to disregard the pain, as if his terrible anger rendered the wound inexistent. Melinda Posey, as she struggled hopelessly for life and breath, couldn't understand why the situation had unexpectedly turned on her.

"Xan… der… what…are you… doing?"

"Shut up!" he yelled terrifyingly, twisting his body to drag her into the water. "Buffy never loved me! She loved ANGEL!"

"Dude, what are you doing?" yelled Marcus, feeling a need to jump in and save the girl. He did nothing though; the natural instinct was eclipsed by his own desire for survival and his fear of Xander. He had never seen his friend so enraged; Xander trembled with fury. Marcus hanged behind, feeling ashamed for his mix feelings.

"Shut up! Mind your damn business!"

"Xander… I …"

"SHUT UP!" Buffy tried to fight, clawing at his wrists, her feet kicking in the water. Xander was crying and let out a nervous laugh as he started pushing her down toward the water. "You're not Buffy… Buffy would never have said that…"

"I… am… Xander… please!" Melinda was panicking as her back arched under Xander's weight. She peaked sideways at the water, only inches away by then.

"If you were Buffy, you wouldn't need to beg me. "

"I don't have… my strength.."

"Buffy," answered Xander, stone cold, "my Buffy, would find a way." 

Melinda opened her mouth to mutter a last plea, and gulped down water instead as he violently shoved her head under it. Hopelessly, she began thrashing against his iron grip, scratching and kicking at anything she could find. Xander didn't flinch when she scratched his face open, didn't slap her arm or pull away from her touch, but he began sobbing as the thrashing turned to involuntary spasms, and then nothing. Buffy, the real Buffy's last words were on his mind, while Melinda Posey, in her last living moments, thought back to Faith's advice. A deadly lie that would torment her for all of eternity.

"B.? She loved Xander like mad crazy. Use to tell him all the time."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside the dilapidated house, Xander and Marcus stood in the pouring rain without talking. They had just escaped, but Xander didn't seem happy about that. He was miles away, contemplating the taste of a shotgun. He wouldn't move, his eyes darker and colder than before, he just stood, still trembling with rage. Marcus hung back quietly and watched him as he stared at his own shadow as if he had just caught it staring back.

"Happy to see you fellas made it," said Lindsay as he elegantly crossed the street, umbrella keeping his expensive suit from being ruined. Unfortunately, Xander wasn't so forgiving. He spun around and slapped the umbrella away before grabbing the lawyer by the neck and leaning him hard into the closest wall. Lindsey almost choked under Xander's forearm, firmly pressed against his throat. 

"Hey! Hey! Relax, will you? I'm on your side, remember? I didn't do this to you."

"Doesn't mean I can't kill you for fun now, does it?" Xander eyes were red and swollen, but Lindsey couldn't tell whether he was still crying or if it was only rain in his eyes. Marcus said nothing.

"I guess it doesn't, but maybe you'd like to know it wasn't Buffy Summers you killed back there."

"I already know that," answered Xander. Lindsey fell to the floor as his captor loosened his hold. He took the lawyer a few breaths before he could speak again. "Who did this to me?"

"I think you already know that, Mr.Harris. My employer asked me to give you a gift though, which should facilitate your revenge. It's waiting for you in your car."  

"PTB's send me a gift for my revenge?"

"Who said I was working for the PTBs?" answered Lindsey with a smile as he dusted himself off. He dug into his pocket and handed Xander one of his cards. "If you ever need my services or if you know somebody that does, don't hesitate to give me a call."

Xander didn't stop him as the lawyer, calmly crossed back the street and drove away in a brand new Ferrari. Instead, he stared at the little emblem on the corner of the wet card. A balance, tipping slightly to one side, seemed to mock him with its unforgiving judgment.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Martha, would you call the airline and verify my reservations, please." asked Mason to his secretary through the intercom. He was finishing shredding the last of his documents and snuck a peak around his shoulder as she answered him. He took a second to admire the view from the large bulletproof windows behind him. Soon, he'd leave New York and it's tall towers of light. Even through the storm they shined, surging out of the darkness of the night.

"Already checked, sir. I've also just finished packing your bags."

"That's my girl. Thanks a lot Martha, you're a dear." She really was and Mason regretted he would have to kill her before he left; unfortunately for her, he simply couldn't have that kind of loose end hanging around.

 "Oh, you might also like to know you also have a two calls waiting."

"Who?"

"They're on the private lines, I didn't ask them questions as you requested." The private line was meant for individuals who, for one reason or another, couldn't identify themselves on the phone.

"Thanks, I'll get on it right now." Mason picked up the first line as he comfortably lunged back in his leather armchair. "Hello?"

"Hello Mason." The baroque voice needed no introduction. "You really thought you'd get away with it, didn't you?"

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about?"

"The tribunal. Trying despite my express instructions to get rid of Mr. Harris. Did you really think I wouldn't find out, especially since you used my own account at Wolfram and Heart?"

"No, actually I didn't." Mason quickly gave up trying to lie; there really wasn't any point anymore. Calmly, he resumed shredding papers. "I was just hoping you wouldn't find out so soon."

"And all this out of what? Jealousy? You betray me because you couldn't measure up to Xander? Because Faith wouldn't return your affection?"

"You say potato, I say tomato. Quite frankly, I don't see why we need to waste time exploring my reasons. I wanted Xander gone, now he is, and I feel all better and cheerful inside."

"I'm afraid Mr. Harris is still alive." Mason said nothing, stopping only momentarily to consider the ramifications of this information. "I found out about your little plan, that's why I had Faith join me here. I also hired a lawyer to argue Xander's defense. Though he failed to secure his release, he's just informed me Mr. Harris has walked away from the tribunal victorious and unharmed. I made sure he knew it was you that sent him the Buffy duplicate."

"That doesn't matter," answered Mason with relative calm, "I was going to have to disappear one way or another. I doubted very much you would have any intentions of just forgive and forgetting me after you found out about the betrayal."

"I have no plans to, you will get what's coming to you, Mason. You would have been careful not to play games with me a second time."

"I very much doubt that, sir. After all, I am up here, and you are all the way down there. You might have incidentally noticed that I have emptied all the accounts you had given me access to. Have fun trying to piece your finances back together. Goodbye, and pleasure doing business with you, sir." Mason hung up the phone and after a sigh, picked up the other line.

"Hello?"

"You sure know how to keep a guy waiting, Mason." A smile formed itself around the corner of Mason's mouth. The voice on the other end was joyless and empty, and that filled him with a huge sense of satisfaction.

"Xander? Didn't appreciate the little reunion with your dead lover, I gather?"

"I had to kill her Mason."

"Well that's really a shame. I can see how this would leave you a little disturbed. Maybe you should look into suicide, I hear that works out great for lots of people."

"I was more thinking along the lines of killing you. You know, I'm proactive like that." In the background, Mason could hear the sound of rain falling. He felt like laughing , ad let out a little chuckle to further his attempt at infuriating Xander.

"Well, that's unfortunate, I'm afraid I'm going to be unavailable for that. Give my love to Faith when you see her, would you? I'm afraid I'll never get to defile that wonderful body of hers again. You know, she quickly forgot about you once I got my hands on her."

"Mason, how about we skip the banter? I just want to kill you and be done with it."

"Are you planning on charging the lobby again Xander? Because that would be just wonderful with the new added security, it should be quite a nice show."

"I know all about your new security, about the fifty extra guards, about the automatic turrets, the nerve gas, the trapped elevators… but none of that matters right now, Mason. You want to know why?"

"I'll bite." Mason rolled his eyes. 

"Because I can see you."

Suddenly Mason's heart skipped a beat, his composure slipping from his face. Quickly, he snapped his head around, just time to catch the muzzle flash far off in the distance. 

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Xander stared out through the scope of the fifty caliber sniping rifle. Mason's headless body tittered for a moment, a fountain of blood springing from his neck. Gravity as always, eventually won the battle and the body slipped off to the floor. Xander, momentarily deaf from the discharge, stared at the blood, and the hole the fifty caliber round had pierced through the bulletproof glass. It had been like cellophane before the anti-tank weapon.

"Goodbye Mason," whispered Xander into the cell phone before hanging up. He rubbed his shoulder, sore from the shotgun-like recoil, and he slipped out the earpiece. Methodically, he put away the rifle as rain kept on pouring on the distant rooftop where he had taken position. His revenge tasted like ashes, but Xander didn't mind. He just felt a need to thank whoever had sent him the rifle.

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Marcus didn't speak; he didn't need to.

Xander walked in, moving past his friend. He glanced at Sanaz and Katrina on the couch, holding icepacks over their massive bruises. They avoided his eyes. Everything was slow to him, his heartbeat, his footsteps, his loud breath that muffled everything around him. He kept walking, each step deliberate and cheerless. He walked like a dead man sensing the tragedy awaiting him where Gabe sat, his head bleeding even through the bandages.

He saw the story written all over their faces, over the dent in the wall and the broken wheelchair. Garrett was slowly stepping up to him, swallowing hard as he tried to muster the strength to say something. Xander beat him to it.

"Faith?"

"She—she took Dawn."

Xander looked away and closed his eyes for a moment. He felt like the world was against him, or perhaps it was the other way around; he couldn't figure that part out. He just felt like ending it all, but on a second thought, he realized there was some hope.

"That's… that's not so bad. Faith wouldn't hurt Dawn. We'll just wait until…" the telephone rang and Xander stared at it with an unusual disorientation. When it became apparent by the third ring that he wouldn't pick it up, Garret did it for him.

"Yep?" Suddenly, Garrett shoulders shook as if a chill had ran through his entire body. He looked dismayed and he quickly pulled the receiver away from his ear. 

"Faith?" asked Gabe. Garrett answered by shaking his head. "Who is it then?"

"I don't know… they just asked to speak to Xander," Garrett swallowed hard, trying to regain some control over his body. "The voice…. Its not…. It's like thousands of scream at the same time."

Xander's face snapped up and he looked terrified. He hesitated a few instants, panting as he moved back and forward a few steps, running his hand through his hair. Everyone couldn't believe how shaken he seemed. He finally lunged forward, and with obvious apprehension, he snatched the phone from Garrett's frozen hand.

"Yes…"

"Why hello, Xander. So good to finally speak to you again."

Xander swallowed hard, oblivious to the worried stares of his friends. He looked lost, or confused, as if he was struggling with some foreign notion. Finally, he spoke, his voice sounding desperate, the name like a curse he had wished never to utter again.

"…. Amsodeus."

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COMING SOON!!!   

THE SHOCKING CONCLUSION TO BETWEEN SHADOWS SEASON I TWO PARTS FINALE

Episode VIII             …AND NOTHING ELSE MATTERS


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